If your lips are dry, let me moisten them with the sweet fragrance of my lips. When your soul is empty, let me fill it with the fruits of my love so you can moan in ecstasy. Let me whisper in your mouth and it shall melt like honey. A kiss of mine can satisfy the wishes of a Master like you. Tell me how to please you, Lord. Come and swim like a fish into the ocean of my love. Let us melt into each other, let me wound you with everlasting pleasure. God shall be our kingdom and you my only Master.

A little bit of rain
Expecting more from the lord
Just now, the right way we sway

Lighten the lost souls in the darkness
Let them wander with ease
Occasions that occur very often
A mild notion to be burned

I

My words do not matter to Him
Just faith, love, and devotion
My words do not matter to me
Just eternal peace without condition

So why do I still write
And for whom to not listen
Constantly fearing inferiority
While aspiring total self-forgetfulness

II

I want to reap what is sown
Plant the seeds here,
But let it bloom yonder
Let me be content
To drink the bitter silence here
And taste the sweetness hereafter

I want to bask in the present sun
See the prospect of glory
But let it not shine for me here
Let me be content
To praise the wisdom of suffering, before
As an ordinary sunflower
And receive the everlasting warmth, beyond
Ever closer to the sun

III

I want the world to love all
As I want to be loved by Him
I want the world to accept itself
As I could never accept myself
With its scars, and flaws, and suffering
With more forgiveness for sinners
Than momentary praises for perfection

I look at the world as a mirror
Fading and scraped bare
By constant cleansing-
A looking glass stained by tears
And broken by hairline fractures
Will not distort the beauty of the
Seeker of obscured truth

But, a non-existent flawless mirror
Where the onlooker refuse to look
Will show nothing of merit
Truth, lies, or otherwise

IV


O world, be not like me
The bard afraid of words
If you keep them to yourselves
Then Hear the silence reign

O world, be not like me
A sinner afraid of imperfections
If you pluck all petals with flaws
Then See a world full of stalks

O world, be not like me
The glutton with thin skin
If you don’t build up your calluses
How unbearably will it twinge

V

Now heed my plea

The lambs might have autonomy
But what wonder might lie beyond
The glen
What happens,
When in perfect harmony
The uncut wool smothers the sheep
And doom looms
When green turns to earth
Grazed
Till it waned.

VI

Soon, if I were to be chased
By the clouds of self or man
I will put my faith in the sun
I will lay bare my soul in the sun

For its Warmth,
    Calms the chilling winds of change
    All shadows conquered at dawn
    And at dusk
It yet guides,
    Lending light to the crescent moon
    Even at its bleakest a soothing sight
    And at its brightest
A mother’s love in the summer days
A father’s forgiveness in the winter nights

VII

Fear not the petty scorn and envy of men
Cried I, the pettiest, most scornful, and envious
Of them all
Shame me not, for we are all lost
Let us find together,
The road timelessly traveled
Built for the mass, found by the few
Righteous, yet perilous
Rugged and overgrown
Darkened by the Sun
To give to it to reach the summit
Flesh and soul
Strength and breath
One day aching joyously
Having reached the height
To see the hidden valley of delight
Where we will finally
Ache
Nevermore

If I die today,
Speak nothing more than truth,
I didn't die a hero,
I didn't miss my youth.

My legacy in fire,
Burn away the chaff,
not the greatest man you knew,
But missed the makers wrath.

So say "he's a broken light
that craved to mend himself.
He trusted in the Lord who saves,
considered Him true wealth."

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T­his poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "शिव स्वरूपं" published in pratilipi on (Dec. 2017) Can be read through the link ==>> https://bit.ly/2P4j7vE
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That face of Lord Shiva is most beautiful in which he holds Ganga in his hairs
The Moon feels blessed by beautifying the head of Shiva as a glittering crown

The Serpants also became jewellery by themselves and decorated his blue neck
Shiva holds the trident on one hand and plays the Damroo from the other one

He has seated himself on a mat of Tiger Skin and rubbed pyre ash on his body
He has left elephant and the horses and decided to travel on an old Bull Nandi

By such an amazing face form, he is always ready for the welfare of devotees
The cruel and wicked have always been afraid of his eldritch face and form.

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Shiva (See Line 1): A God (The Destroyer) in Hindu Mythology
Ganga (See Line 1): The Holy river whose flow and speed is controlled by the coiled hairs (Jatas) of Lord Shiiva
Damroo(See Line 4): A sort of musical instrument ( Pellet Drum )
Nandi((See Line 6)): A bull in Indian mythology who is the vehicle of Lord Shiva

If I were to pick a colour
What would it be
If I were to paint the world with it
What would it stand for
What image would it portray
The world strays
Let's bring it back home
With THE LORD'S help
we paint the world
Heart and soul
with the color-
H harmony
A alluring
P peace
P perfection
Y Yielding




©LovelynEyo

I want to strive to be worthy of your grace. So that the day I see your face, my knees will hit the ground in praise, but my eyes don’t drop to the ground in disgrace.