Rise, rise, out of the caverns of darkness,
through lives, unfolds your immortal journey

Collapsed field         Vast to small        particular                    blabberings
chosen timeline         growing ego        wonder, wonder        to structure

through vales sunny at times, but
through the vaults of obscurity often

Scribblings                 crowd of faces     men, trees,                 flowers
to consonants             to family              birds and beats         butterflies

grounded in the light ancient,whose
descension is all the souls that set out

Autumn leaves          Seasons                      tastes, smells         one of a kind
rainbow joy                of sun and snow      sound of music      for all things

before the dawn of time, branching out
into segmented existences, in a quest for Self.

regimen          run, roll,               infant bondings           slow march of
and play        skip and hop          friendships                 the little man

Four flowers bloomed this morning at the horizon
and the world is drenched wet in tears the skies
wept for joy, maiden of the dawns, I saw you pluck
stars for your basket of prayers before the hours
and now you are gone, past the windswept edges.

I see your presence that has filled the peals of light
peering into my chamber this hour before deed.
Sombre noons when the koel cries for her beloved
I hear your footsteps jingle in the distant wood.
When the lamps of longing are lit at dusk, send

rains that soothe the valleys and the winds that
caress the river weeping  for the sorrow of loss.

Deep in the nights, your silences more sonant
than the footfalls that waken the grazing deer.
I saw your smile behind the untended fires
in the heart of the cavern, but I did not hurry.
And now I hear myself echoing in the quarters.

There be some juice. Light, we cannot drink.
Dark our days that trudge on, laden caravan.
There be some song, to the tune of the winds.
Parched, the baked earth thirsting for a caress
wet from the silken lashes of the sky maiden.

Let's talk to her tonight,
the last lotus is in still-bloom
in the folds of her tresses
as she goes about plucking
stars for her worship-basket.
Soon the earth is covered
in the misty offerings to Deities
at the far end of spacetime.

Juice some there be. Drink, we cannot light.
Caravan laden on trudge that days our dark.
The winds of the tune to song some there be.
A caress for thirsting earth the baked, parched
maiden the sky of lashes the silken from wet.

Let there be light, let there be.
Darkness, we have enough.

In the heart of the cavern, light
that stands ancient behind time, beyond
phenomena, the observer of melodies;
This is where it all began,
those aeons lost when the mollusc
heeded the call to man.

Inward, stalked by worry and loss,
an inversion of the lines of time:
beyond the zero point of recollection,
where zoom microcosms of possibilities
a realm not realm, but like that
an existence beyond existence.

Here, arose an affliction, in
curled expanses that exist as some among
an infinitude of potentials,
worldlines, some dark and featureless,
others growing and meaningless
and some like here where sentient,

observatory, a shadow grows around
the probing ray of infant awareness.

and so the ascent, from light to light
through alleys of darkness. Vast,
the beginnings and interludes
between phantasmagoria; What
accedes of in slumber, the knowledge
of things and nothings.

And up even until the day when
the babe says 'mine'.

Jostling with the plate leaves,
old plastic bags, empty
cigarette packs, chocolate wraps,
and late evening light
breaking apart on mellow waves,
this lone lily smiling
like a street kid, a slum urchin.

The wonder banyan that has
roots everywhere; the yonder
village, morning mists, distant
playgrounds, idling cattle,
all gone but in paintings now,
and the latest specimen perching
by the vestiges of a once-lake.

Out in the park, with old
plastic bottles, cold coca cans,
well-grown weeds, pigeon
crusted icons, rusticated chairs,
and torn billboards for
company: time out in nature,
manicured to industrial glory.

Far FAR from the world.... WORLD...
                       whorled my world

HERE condensed here con CON
                             con-densed dying densed

a **-HOme mmmme-me hewn in stone

Prison for prison pri pri pri sonnnn

here a drop of silence echoes
                          si lence sisisilensilensilense

pins pins pins dropped, trickling distant water
                                             trick-ling

in the pud-dle a mud-dle cal-led li-fe

a cave home, far away from home, is this

a noise of thoughts, rushing past
a gorge of silence.

how it was meant to be?

consuming homes in deluge, after the rains,

trickle silences, replaying lives, screened
all around in silken mists

lightning bolts prising open recesses dark.