I don't know what it is,
and that is precisely the reason why I am living...

It is hard to accept that pain is an inevitable part of the life and that is pain...

Of all the misery and happiness that I have gone through my life,
it seems that the time is the only aspect that still fetters me to this life...
even a light cannot escape the time and it travels through the time...
If I **** the time which holds the life and universe together,
I would transcend this life..
It would illuminate my life and pave me the way to that constant experiential state of divine...

The state of being with no suffering is Shakti
The state of awakening beyond sleep is Shakti
When love matures and sweetens that is Shakti
The fullness and fulfillment of masculine is Shakti

When the sweetness matures that is Shakti
The divine which resides in the thoughts is Shakti
Whatever work comes before us is Shakti
The state of mukti, the end, is Shakti

The braveness which destroys laziness is Shakti
The flame which is instilled in these words is Shakti
When the best of fruits are eaten that taste is Shakti
When thoughts of divine arise that is Shakti
Shankara who lives on top of the huge mountains, his lovely flame is Shakti

The lap where life flourishes is Shakti
The strength which guards the earth is Shakti
The flame which stops one from falling is Shakti (denotes inner strength that averts fall/defeat)
The tapas that eliminates confusion is Shakti

The finger which stops downfall is Shakti
The one who spans the whole expanse of sky is Shakti
Her highness who eliminates karma is Shakti
The inner flame which shines from within the heart is Shakti

An artistic collaboration with skyblueandblack:

Ink the paper and quiver the heart...
Pines purred over the delusions of life..
Nostalgia attired with blue...
ridden by red,
inundating the heart....
Love lumps into words...
as emotions spurt through the ink eschewing
the brink of tears...
Fingers crave the curvatures of letters..
exposing the embodiment of emotions,
Here--
catharsis alludes through meteors of words...
pastiche of existence plunges through paper...
ergo the liminal of "conversation with the creation"...





Thoughts reverberate through the reed of my heart,

And it resonates through my words...

I give you a word
And press it to your ear like kisses.
This is the nature of poems
That they tremble in the flesh
Like fireflies fading too soon.

I give you a word
And press it to your eyes like laughter
After the nature of sun-glow
Dazzling Damascus wonders
Like the meridian at noon

I give you a word
And press it to your heart like honey
Funny the nature of speaking
That can frazzle the nerves and sparkle
Like skyrockets chasing the Moon.

I will give you a word
And press it to your tongue like thunder
Under the nature of breathing
That flutters in your registers
Like an old song without a tune

I give you these words
Will you give me your ears
And your eyes
And your heart
And your voice

What is missing seems inevitably never existed...
As it is not to be felt irretrievable...