Awakening to what.

Is there a fixed path to how one should awaken?
In the awakening ,where is the woman or the man??

whose eyes opens?
the man's or the woman?
Who awakens??
whose body resists ,
whose mind surrenders?

the man's or the woman's??

Or is there only the sleeper murmuring in his sleep?

No matter how it happens.....when Nishagandhi blooms
there's such a fragrance.
The sleeper can't fall asleep in such a night
no matter how obscure it might be.

The anger is gone
the blossom is sweet
so sweet.

so sweet is the calling
The fear is gone.

Awakening
sufficiently

to be drunk by the fragrance of love.
The solitude is gone.

Drunken
sufficiently

to awaken in the laughter of one's being.
The pain is gone.

The sky is in you,the flower is in you, the river is in you.
What have you to say -- when silence is speaking .

Shhhhh!!!
The lovers are here.
Silence is in conversation
with your soul.

New Khadhi wearing Gandhi's

khadi wearing Gandhi's.
When you were thirsty your drinking waters came from the himalayas.

You astound the world.
They are all filled with deep admiration.
Of your carefully blend concoctions; well prepared scripts;
eloquent speeches,
polished motives, generosities, concerns, affectionate embraces.

But how can i shut my eyes.
My little village dies slowly in your arms
Plagued by your sweet promises.

Five years have gone.
Its voting time and you 're back.
There's almost no one in the village
The drinking water was poisoned
But you have come back with the same smile
Lucky for you that no one had Ghodse's gun.

INSIGHT--V

PART-- V

Are'nt these that men ought to learn
See truth-- no matter how he turns
Many new worlds-- but no new speech
All that is - is within him to teach
For Man must know in love alone
Are acres of heaven and every God's throne
Hence a heartful of love is a heart full of might
Nature inteprets to man his own insight.

FIN.

Insight - IV

PART -IV

The lone skylark goes to find the song
hidden in the secret of the dawn .
While a hungry child travels far to look
many things written on life's notebook.

Is everything in life conquered by trials
can footsteps cover every unknown mile.
Do Seagulls shatter the chains of prisons
and fulfil the calls of the shifting seasons.

Pause to inhale the scents of jasmines
the glory of heaven is hidden therein .
Pause to kiss your mother's face
Is'nt she the women, full of grace.

Pause to hold your old father's hand
Strength and love you'll understand.
Pause to touch an infant's face
and experience the depth of a warm embrace.

The keys to heaven's door above
can one find it , but through love.

Insight - III

PART - III

Can you understand those weepy tales
unless you sit by heart's lonely vales.
When a child has no friends to play with him
do fairies invite him, to a land of dreams.

A soul who kneels down to pray
whose graceful god smiles everyday.
A soul who sleeps with a sigh
fear not, providence hand is nigh.

He who cries and asks for peace
who will show him where it is.
The wonders of the day basks in light
But the wise learns as much from the sulky nights.

With every question he who asks
Nature's mystries to unmask
As a sage seated on a mountain peak
Emaciated and appeared weak.

Waiting for wisdom to hear her speak
And would wisdom speak for he was meek.
or everyday would he learn some more
a little more than the day before.

How shines the sun in the rain
how the soul mixes joy and pain
Would white light arch in Hope's seven glow
like wonderful rainbows set in a row.

The soul fulfilled, the mind enlit
thus, freedom found in his spirit.
As an eagle flown in the spacious sky
to understand what eternal imply.

For life had death , and death had life
and he saw them not, which way they went.
For death and life, togather remade
the withered grass, to exist and fade.

The cup of wisdom was too strong to sip
so a handful of songs passed his lips.
The crimson floats from morn to evening
revealed beauty's faint end and begining.

Does the spirit of the sky have indifferent tides
for passion and peace to gently abide
Did the sage trace where quiet laughter is
when he found he was a temple of peace.

NB: i don't know what to write in the next part, yet i feel that this poem does'nt end here!

A surprise for You - for making the clouds look more beautiful.

Your beautiful presence
like
a colourful prayer
hanging
in the winds
of the tibetan mountains.

your beautiful mind
like
a silent sky
murmuring
to the unborn clouds.

i have felt it
as
the coming in of a springtime breeze
offering
a thousand million fragrances of your soul,
having
witnessed
and witnessing the same love , nameless and infinite
carrying us more and more deeply within us.

Insight-II

PART II

Nothing can confuse this stern law
Beauty inherits not , a single flaw .
A blade of grass in the wilderness
vanquishes the poet's weariness .

The man whose love for nature claims
His ears are blessed with loft refrains .
He does not say Rose ,the flower
Is more beautiful than the rainy shower.

The lillies refuse to surpass or tease
The wild grass who stands drawfted beneath.
The jasmines chaste fragrance reach
And mingles with the silent pinewood peace .

The rhythm the bee has in its hum
Abates the dignity of the distant drums.
The humble woods offer their laden fruits
rippened by the songs of the shepards lute.

The solitary mountains tranquil look
Nourishes the rivers, streams and brook.
Reproach not the vagabond's slothful game
Or you'll erase forever simplicity's name.

Who knows why he loves to roam
and be entertained by the seaside milky white foam.
Has the sky not set its crimson dome
so the vagabond's comfort could be his home.

Does'nt the dewdrops of the morning sky
often drip from the orphan's eye.
Hands in his pockets he goes to meet
someone kind there in the streets .

while the garderner waters the flower beds
the mountain's shadows softly spreads
only to let us know it dwells
Like silence in a charming shell.


PS: Felt the need to be rhymey - dimmey...part 3 of this poem tommorow.