 |
| Source : Free images |
Loose Thought
Like a tiny fish
Swimming along a summer streamlet
Elusive
To the nimblest human hand
Even after rushing into a pond or lake
It can never be caught
Within the largest net
Of language
The Meditating Mind
Imagine, how it bubbles
Bubbling like a swamp
With broken bubbles
How it calms down
All ripples vanishing
Under the still starlight
An ocean of lotus
That blooms
Towards wisdom
In the Peach Flower Garden
You see no point
In dreaming the only dream that contains
Only fragments as unreal
As a collage in a mirage
The only fragments that make up history. You see
A point in the unlikelihood of a world
Where other creatures have long stopped
Dreaming
Swirling
Among the seven colors
Of the paint, the painting
Gives rise to a swirl
Turning fast enough
To send you up to a little cloud
Like an eagle gliding through
The serenity of autumn sky
Neither the eagle nor you cast
Any shadow down as the earth
Keeps rotating as leisurely
As any other day beyond the black hole
When you return and stand on a
Hilltop, the painting is still
Unfolding itself, but the eagle has
Vanished high up into another sky
No comments:
Post a Comment