Beyond the horizons of my perception,
truth merges with its shadow
to form the stellar dust that settles on my soul’s stillness.

Webs of galaxies dance to a mesmeric melody
rising from the depth of a prismatic dream
that carries the script of my being.

Mystifying strains of awareness permeate my soul,
I become an enigma buried in the mystery of my genesis.

At the crossroads where the gods stroll,
the indigo mist etches the mark of eternity
on my soul's forehead
for me to stroll along with the gods.

Flowing from a mesmeric flute,
soothing chimes of celestial stillness
stroke every grain of my being to a lullaby.

Like a gentle mist
illuminating a willing landscape to esoteric radiance,
every cell glows to a call from the depth of stillness.

Dust returning to dust
to free the spirit from the hold of mortality
diffusing it to a galactic wonder of thoughtful mystery,
with new wings to migrate to a land
shut to mortals blinded by illusions.

On the wings of the mystical whirlwind
I dance to the call of bliss
that escort me to the heart of its radiance.

Divine hands
with the dexterity
to disperse a flurry of ethereal fragrances
in one’s soul
take me on a pilgrimage
to the depths of the soul
where I touch the core of my consciousness.

Soul-stirring fragrance of Sandalwood
wafting into my cells
takes me to the depth of
stillness to free my spirit
from the hold of mortality!

Raindrops have long returned to their nests of ethereal clouds.
Few stayed here,
diamond drops scattered on
the white pearly glow of my bougainvillaeas,
immortalising the beauty of a mystic's smiles.

How many Springs have visited
this wintery desolation,
painting it gorgeous with its enchanting glory!

How many Spring flowers have mesmerised
this arid wasteland
with its ethereal beauty!

Tell me, why the Spring has not visited me,
why has it not mixed its soothing colours in my dreary dreams?
Why has it not left its splendour
on my parched longings?

A garden I didn’t ask for,
but only a slice of its colour.
A garden I didn’t ask for,
but only a single flower –
to treasure in my mourning soul
the life that Spring brings to
the winter of my frozen dreams.