Come and draw,
in charcoal or
chalk,
these syllables
I have long buried deep.
To be known,
to be owned,
to be owned,
my syllables
but difficult to hear or see.
Do you know them as you reach them?
Tonight,
Tonight,
Come. And write
in sand, silt, mud or clay
My harmony.
picture source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/147704062755038542/
The fact that objects that seem separate from each other can actually communicate, tells me that they're really just one and not two...like undifferentiated and dissolved in the same well-stirred solution. Otherwise they would be unable to reach each other. But somehow, we don't experience this unity. And when we find someone who can actually read the deepest secrets of our mind, we get a peek into this magical reality which gives a feeling of euphoria. Maybe that's what we call love because love makes us feel one with the 'other'. And maybe that's why all masters say that love is the path to god.
ReplyDeleteImagine a oneness where every particle is the same being. It would be like being in love with everything at the same time. Even pains and suffering would reveal their joyful source in such a state of being. A perfect symphony.
Lovely poetry. Really got me thinking. Thanks for sharing :)
True.
Delete"The wise person I, deem my very self" - Ramanuja
The ending lines nailed it! Beautiful deep thoughts and I guess such thoughts come in the quietness of night when we can hear the sounds otherwise inaudible in the light.
ReplyDeleteTrue Vandans... its that quietness, which makes us speak.
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