The rain falls ,
an earthen odour fills the heart
each sense plugged into the nature
an ecstacy, a holy frenzy, a heavenly bliss prevails
A wounded sage, smiles through the cracks on his lips
his broken body livens up with each drop of the rain
he dances to an inner tune,
in peace, he moves with the grace of an angel,
it is then when lightning strikes,
and the mortal act of joy of the mad mad sage is immortalised,
by an act Divine.
that are subdued by fabrication,
We are not of such a race,
Oh you have tried us,
But a hundred times over.
A flower hides in its own petals till it blooms,
so does one door lead to another;
open the door to your heart,
you’ll find Him there,
The life we choose to live is the result of the choices we make. Our path is determined not by singular decisions but rather by our reaction to what comes our way.
I have been searching for questions far longer than I have been for answers. Inquisition has been the theme of my life. We do the things we do, unaware, till we realize what we are doing and certain patterns began to emerge – our characters are formed. Good or bad, we spend the rest of our lives thinking along those patterns, defending our choices which initially were not the result of profound thought rather an accident.
I have in-front of me the wisdom of experience,
the folies of my age, the scripture,
the wise men and their ramblings,
all the books; burdened with advice,
My reason, my intellect, my humor;
I put them all together,
for an answer to the conundrum,
that my life has so become.