Origins

Are you not afraid of me child?
Does not all this blood scare you?
That this is your father on my lap dying in pain
And that I am the one who is as you see devouring him!
Asked the divinity,
A face of a lion under the roof of snake heads

Afraid? How can I be when I have not known its meaning?
Not known fear in any form since I have seen you
Always, till now when I looked into my heart
Now I am seeing you with open eyes
What is pain now, what is death, what is life?
I am in surrender
Says the child, transfixed at the face of the presence

What is the ‘I’ in me now lord?
The self is no longer what was
‘I’ and ‘me’ are no longer words with meaning
I feel like a drop of water in the ocean of you
But the ocean scares me, it seems so unstill, ravaging, storming.
How shall I let go and merge into it?
How will I find the ‘me’ when I mix in you?
I asked.

Fear not child, when you fall into me, you are me
And once me you shall not need to find the ‘you’
And then you shall know that you have finished your search
And that your fears are what led you to me
The ocean is calm and gentle; close your eyes that you see with
Open the eyes of feeling; open the eyes in the soul
And you shall see, but only if you surrender to me
I hear the wind speak

I close my eyes; I see the ocean now calm
I hear its waves gentle to the touch, like a feet stepping on lotus
I ask if I can open my eyes now, I hear a ‘yes’
I find myself in the lotus he holds in one hand
Sleeping like an infant, and him watching me, like a mother
He is my mother.

she asks

My wife asks me often why I just let go
I told her that I let go of myself once for it helps
It changed me from the ‘me’ I was to the ’me’ I always wanted to be
And this is the’ me’: disconnected, free of all desires
Only for you I come into this world of desires
Why you would ask, I don’t have anything nor do I care
I cannot be me without her though
For that is the only string that binds me to this world as human
I cannot leave for if I do I cannot answer myself
I cannot be what they want me to be for I am myself
I cannot be me or myself so I cannot be alive
I cannot die for I will hate to see tears in her eyes
Pity
What a pity
It’s not a pity to me
I cannot live in a death of myself
Nor can I revel in the life of my death
The dawn of my life is my attachment to her
And the sunset is me
All else is the noon where it scorches me
But it rains once in a while
And I can feel the soul wet in its tears
But I don’t search anymore for a promised land
For I never promised myself such
Never have I nor shall I.

And peace

silent and gentle
As the blooming rose bush
Real as the scent they scent the air with
darker than the night
brighter than the day
far more true than the truth itself
it cites no arrival sign,
it leaves a mark, so much of pain
unimaginable
no one is hurt , the body shows no wound
the mind knows the bleeding of the soul
when his scythe reaps the soul
the turmoil of life ends, peace begins

She sought

==================================
Does the feeling and the craving fade?
Does she still yearn for the touch of a youthful hand?
Would it caress her skin, make her feel like a woman again?
Or is it all lost for her now that she is old and frail?
Will she be in bliss as once she had been?
Will the blood in her veins sing?
Will her desires sting, make way for her to own love again?
Of flesh, of bliss, of pure lustful wants?
Will she ever find?