1.
Show me your inky night
and dreaming darkness,
the passing clouds, moonlit,
wind driven, impassioned,
that never would know where
they wound culminate,
or what transformations
will take place between the
nebulous begining and the end
as they speed through as if
they are programmed to perform
feats that move the wheels forward.
2.
Show me the constellations magnificent,
that baffle me every time I stare,
countless stars in your milky way
like a  progression, dying or being born,
some glittering, some death pale,
red, blue or any hue one could imagine,
and the endless mystery that envelops,
all the wondrous things, making' being'
as a part of 'nothingness' eternal,
one in which "Maya"*unfolds as apparitions.
3.
Show me,how you drown me in  your
boundless love that makes
every moment born, transcend
beyond black holes of deaths
and cycles of births connected
like tunnel of wormholes.Make me listen
the subtle music being conducted within
every tiny spec, that takes part in this
eternal ecstatic dance of the sublime.
4.
Show me your magical might,
that would make me both,
Schrodinger's cat alive, in it's playful self,
and simultaneously in a sleep like death,
existing while it is non existent,
and one with everything in this multiverse
dead , dying, alive or emerging from gloom,
all at once, while, reposing  
within a consciousness, limitless.

I gaze at you,
ceaselessly,
in anticipation of words,
but these vacuous conversations are only ones that seem to come.

These salutations and customs- are all too familiar,
a forewarning to hail this semblance,
a bellow to put on my armour of camaraderie,
a display of grandeur,
as I wallow in cursory nods.

all this while, I still await those words,
ones that promise to slit the soul,

for it keeps on cluttering with ghosts of past flaws,
a past I wish that never was.

-Understood-

The blue shining sea.
The orange autumn leaves.
The simple things in life,
that make us feel complete.
The warm rays of sun.
The white shining moon.
If these thing ever left it,
would be to soon.
No emotions to feel,
no colors to see.
What would happen to people,
like you and me?
No sadness but also no happiness,
No pain but also no pleasure.
These things go together like,
Two birds of a feather.
Without good there is no bad,
without bad there is no good
You need two of everything so
It can be understood

Brown sugar sapotas
Blending with custard alfonso mangos
And bold sweet lime juice

Georgette saris
Pairing with uncut diamond necklaces
Mixed with peals and rubies

Gently sloping palm trees
Swaying in balmy sultry air
And hazy golden sunsets

Frenetic yellow autos
Competing with dusty zipping mopeds
Mixed with ambulating pedestrians

Aromas of cumin
Blending with the sewage
Other times with incense

Glows of brass oil lamps
Singing in hums of prayer
Added with turmeric's incantations

Brightly-patterned salwars
Accentuating gemstone bindis
Comfy fitted leggings

Savory masala dosas
Coupling coconut chutney
Meter-high filter coffee

I used to be an epitome of emotion.
I would burst in technicolor fireworks,
Louder than the night will ever be.
A mood ring would be like a spectrum,
Instead of one color, a wild rainbow.

Grenades would be no match to how I'd explode.  
More than just friendly fire,
I was a war within a body.

A vast expanse of unpredictable tides of
All the mental states you could ever imagine,
Not merely just meeting,
But crashing forcefully against the shore,
Pushing the sand away, but also bringing it closer, as it rolls back and forth
again and again.

But ever since you, my moon, left,
I am as dull as your hue of gray.
My ocean of feelings has gone still,
And has completely turned into drought.
Into nothing.

Yet why am I drowning?

in some ways, i wish to forget you.
to let go of how your words hurt so much inside my heart,
how you left me to myself;
                                                 alone.
in other ways, i can’t stop trying to remember
the times we had - the hopes, dreams, thoughts whispered to each other.
the hope of a better place and time, where we could be together, as one.

i cannot forget you.
but i will always hold close the things i choose to remember:
our juvenile, silly promises,
rather than the lost hopes that will always remain inside my heart.

walls closing in
no where to turn
in this dark room

blindfolded
four corners
sealing the cracks

determination
being cautious
closed doors

lost thoughts
cubed inside
frustration

four huge walls
must get out of
this locked box