Silence is not keeping quiet
because you have nothing
to say...

Silence is having a lot
to say but no desire
to speak...

Well, I was in this grand city
and was at this vast public park
the size, they said, of Versailles;
and I sat there having my sandwich
when I noticed these two men -
the one in front digging a hole
and moving on;
and the other behind filling up the hole
and moving up

and so they worked
(this energetic pair) -
one digging a hole and moving on
and the other filling it in and moving up
and round and round in the park
they went
and on and on

I could not stand it any longer
and I asked the men:
"What are you guys doing - digging
and filling? And digging and filling?"

"Oh, tell us about it!" said the men, spitting
*"The guy who puts in the plants
is on sick leave today
But surely you will agree -
the job's got to be done!"

The cracks in the ground,
Captured the old foot prints,
And in return spelled,
Farewell under my sole.
Soliloquies of a wanderer,
Thoughts repeating like a mantra.
Summer comes, summer goes-
I hid behind those hills,
Between the valleys,
Yelled at the peak,
None heard my plea.



My soul desires to blend,
In your gravel made road.
Would you keep me for every summer?
For summer comes, summer goes.
If you let me go,
Who knows when the next time will arrive,
For this wanderer to ever return -
And taste the joy of another sweet escape?

The loyal breeze promises me,
The best is yet to be seen.
I heard the poets write of love,
Within the trails of your palace.
Nature is a beautiful chaos,
Of an unknown universe
And so is poetry.


I walk and chase each and every sunsets,
Without the night wearing me out.
But summer comes, summer goes.

Lust remains to touch the arches of your mountains,
Feel the shade of gold and green.
Swim in the reflection of the milky blue sky,
I’m with strangers,
But with you, I am with no one.


I dream, I dwell and swim in your intoxication,
I breathe in the smell of fresh fire wood.
Hear the cracking of twigs under my feet,
And dance with the evening mist.
Faith will be my grace,
With which I will caress your beauty,
And praise the one above.
For He has given life to lush greenery,
To every waves, ripples and sun beams.


You have become my summer,
I hold your ray in my right,
And your crystal magic on the other,
Summer, look what I have become for you.
A fire ball made of your celestial hues.

Each strand of hair,
Entwined with memories
Some wither with poison-
Others reborn as flaming flowers.
With roots towards the sun,
Hunger for light-
A need for gravity,
To piece all the-
Truth and warmth,
From a ruthless battle.
Dear fierce fire,
The fight is over.

What verse shall the silent poet utter?
Fingers tapping along the edge
Of a beautiful beast-
O' you, the lost one
Wandering through the gravel road
Fogs and mist
They know you are cold
Less that is known,
Is that you are never alone.

The sky has reached earth
Shattering into crystals
You walk upon a mirror
And have forgotten the dust,the soil.

Breathing slowly into her,
An existence that melts into poetry
A madness like no other-
Of a restless soul
That sees nothing but ecstasy.
An expression that knows no boundary.

Another splash onto that canvas
I see blood, you see vast ocean.
Alas, we both know-
Some love creeps out
From the darkest place,
They swell, they strive-
And suddenly they know not-
How to stop.

Dreamscape; a precious illusion,
Art of the divine-
Alive and twirling,
Adventure brewing silently
Seeping potion of magic-
Into her eyes.

They- the wanderer of the world
She- the lover of life
You-the noble lost soul,
Running in circle-
In this cryptic dream.
I -the silent poet-
The creator of this voyage.

Define the edges of a mystical twinkle
That speaks of truth.
An aura that dances in darkness,
And embraces you with its secrets,
While the supernova twirls around
And surprises you with its vengeance.
It is an unfair world,
But when you look up,
It is a magical place.
Where dreams dances,
And horizons gives birth to new meanings.