You are not from this time
I am not from this place
but if time would be place
I would sit across you again
on a lucid carpet and play the games

like a maze
born from your smile
and assigned to me
as yogas

‘for the Play!’
as you would always say

If time would be place
I would become the dance –
particles mingling you to me
we would pass through each other
and heave this universe

just as I have become the light reflection
shining reverse in your pupil
one of on that vase which you've always observed
unmoving
and
without any prejudgment
analyzing breathless what it really is

maybe not so much different than the self
learning the essence from the self
without words

true knowledge remains in the body of experience only
like a mantra

what makes the eye is what sees the eye
the key is well preserved Timelessly in love

---

Just as I know moments your thoughts connect to me
Just as I can become your skin again and again
experience this world through your breath

and teach your hunger a lesson

It does not help hiding you through my psoas
if I press the big toes and as the diaphragm falls
these muscles wherein you hide stretch
and O dear one
subtle is the skin we share
through which fingers can pass
not dense – not dense at all!
like any universe born and witnessed by inspiration

and like a sea-squirt I can then digest anything that is past tense

and that’s exactly how I became a raven today
balancing on the thinnest and highest branch of a maple
even a sparrow wouldn't dare
but the gaze of inspiration

Only to see your form one more time
Standing there at the window from a past
Watching the park

You know
It is needless to ask
How

It is not the mind that can answer
neither waves of any sort
Yes you already know

You
immersed in an unmoving gaze
For generations
At different places
In different bodies
Having monumentalized the eagle’s eye
Should know!

because
Immeasurable remains the thingless to things
and Inspiration as it were

WHAT ARE WE?

Time on my hands -
like blood at a ****** scene.

My face muscles frozen as I kneel before
the last form of belief that shall ever exist.


WHAT AM I -
But a time traveler that has but witnessed extinctions and destruction.
The last human shadow abandoned by moral values.
A forgotten and abandoned generosity at the cemetery of Existance.

I can barely remember how I got here,
As never have I imagined the world this place to be.

Never have I thought that wrinkles on the heart can tell such sad stories,
Nor did I imagine how hard it would be to keep the waterfall of words
from running over the cliff of the lips.
For, some eyes in this world have witnessed greater pain
than it can ever be fairly monumentalized.

WHAT HAVE I -
But grotesque images
And some predecessors' stories.
Nothing do I see but what world of agony wants me to see.


The energy of sorrow and despair
outbalanced the warm and bright rays of circle of birth.


WHAT ARE WE –
But soulless and narcissistic
yet self-abandoned creatures,
that criticize and worship
random crumbs and pieces of good deeds.
As for the better seldom does anyone know.
  
WHAT AMAZES US –
But our true forgotten existence -
Mystery of humanity, that surprises as a sudden shock of electricity -
That is nothing but a last sign of natural instincts that existed in
someone else's stories of what we had used to be.

Nothing to remember -
But melodramatic elegies
Of wars and losses,
Self-Abundance and social negligence
celebrated at the Inferno of wasted souls.

What do we love?
What have we become?

when we are truly free
Mountains are our rocks
We their ears and eyes
meditate
Monumentalized
Watch oceans and skies
Sing a sacred song
outside timeness
Unknown to our minds
but with our hearts