A flow of ancient air by chance
Passed through the lattice of awareness
Confusing its framework
Thoughts no longer held together tight
The strands of understanding
What felt certain as day, as night
Lost its grip in coherence of doubt
Lost its rhythm exploring
The presence of untamed dimension
The soul remembered its song
Recognizing the imbued deception
How a moment transforms the path
Resurrecting fire's desire
Transcending heart's breath
And laying bare injected truths.

Beneath camouflage of fact and fiction
Behind the curtain of truth and lie
Amid the whispers of creativity's craze
Beyond any sound that fails my tone
Under any guise that guards my notion
Far from the cries of emotion
Within the walls of ratifying words
Upon the hills of vehemence and vista
Through the emergence of natural hints
Along the trails that defy border
I assign the limits of disorder
I devise the rules of order
I curb the enthusiasm of passion
I eradicate the cravings of assumption
I nourish the flowers of doubt
I examine the fruits of conviction
I go high and I plunge low
I crack the codes of Apollo
I rely on intuition and instinct
I abide by poetry's precinct
I shall not rest till I beat the test
I shall not waste the bird in my breast.

I dreamed that I died last night,
not just once but twice.
What the hell is that all about?

We don't control our own lives,
we pretend we do, but that is
merely a wishful self-deception.
Even human life happens not
unlike our riding a rollercoaster.
we are merely up and down
passengers with no control, on
board for the duration, at the
Whims of Fate, and recent
good maintenance of all the
equipment.

Is it fast or slow
Or programed to weather the flow
Moving along the path of order
While accommodating pace of disorder
Where does its head headed
Maybe toward tomorrows unvisited
And does its tail eliminate the past
Or furnish the shadows of the cast
Whose times were cut short
To make room for players of court
Is my time same as your time
Where we enjoy the same clime
Or is there a difference in our rhythm
That determines how we fathom
The clock moves with aim
Deceiving us to play the game
The game of evolutionary sway
That undermines humanity's way
Does Time actually exist
In the way we wield its fist
Is Time absolutely real
In the theatre of Universal trawl
If it is, I cannot feel its passing
Cannot comprehend its amassing
Some go early some go late
Some never even knew of its weight
So, is Time a season in the shadows
Or a reason to plant the willows.

Almost forever the Sun is there
The Planets and their Moons follow suit
Our end could be near or very far
Never can tell of Future's run
Yesterday I was happy and full of life
Today I feel old, tired and lacking love.

Did the Universe begin with a bang
Or was it there all along
Pregnant with dark mass and energy
As well as roaming atmospheres
Harboring inchoate light
There must have been
Spirits positive and negative too
Shaping the ignition of transition's bloom.

No way there was absolutely nothing
Before the Universe began
For nothing comes out of nothingness
The Universe in indistinct form
Was there all along and some explosion
Implosion or metamorphosis
Could have modified the Universe
Into its current existence.

The seed of physical life
May have been planted trillion years ago
Waiting for conducive conditions to grow
There is a gargantuan gap between
What scientists know and what really is
They have sparse knowledge of what
Makes the Universe tick with ample tricks
Our scientists are at a boarding stage
Of a journey that may or may not
Take them to some magical destination
That just might shed light on how
The Universe totally operates and why
But what is the point of BEING
If we know everything there is to know
Mystery is what makes life interestingly
Living for and dying for
Without it, life is a boring ballroom---
An uninspiring game.

Loving people is a complicated
career and a lot of work! At some
point we just want to retire.