Happy Easter….
When the delirium was over
The hands that rocked the cradle
And held the moon in his locks,
Legs that walked on ice and hot desert sands
Following the course of the meandering rivers
To the rocky caves beneath the sea
The rainbow corals and the blue pearl
The jaguar fish and the turtles and terrapins
Dripping in the rain when fingers are pointed towards the horizon.
The divided lines conjoin to host
La Primavera under the canopy of a
Brightly lit sky
The waxing moon profusely bleeding it’s silvery mist over mountains of gold and copper
And crystals like pink argyle diamonds
That shine over the serpents head
In fire incantations they talk to the mother of the universe
Language without verbs become inactive
Without nouns there is nothing to name
Silence is non action without the doer
When it is negated a shining luminous unmistakable presence without any counterparts is readily the reality that engulfed him
He saw the coming in and out of multitudinous universes, meta-alorhytmic metaphors dazzling in the elemental poesis of dimensionkesss singularity points .each reverberating with hymns that the tongue tastes while commemorating the diegesis of mantric syllable in the pantomime of characters endless in the theatre that accomodates every act in the domain of speechless causality that time unknown knows not….
Here and now, she may cry again
Light a lamp, hold a mirror in her hand
Her hair may fall like a shadow of the moon
Eclipsing the sun
And there will be no language
No sign
No nothing .but only a luminous presence
Seeking darkness that is not there anymore…..
Shall you not sing to the glory of this everlasting dawn
A moment that stretches to eternity
As there is no time
Past and future
The advanced and retarded waves
Have disappeared from the equilibrium
Leaving only the ethereal patterns of a pre geometry to weave what it wants to weave
A horse, a stallion running over grasslands
And she beholds the world her bosom
And becomes it
infinitely small or big
Enduring the cry, the scream
The passion and the comic interludes
Exchanging flowers the seasons may give
In an ovation to her playful caprice
She the stillness embodied
Waved her hand and kissed the petals
That will bear the true love that destiny doesn’t know
I may go to slumber again
Aeons may pass in a few seconds
Distilling time win her cup of wonder
She may pluck the grapes and berries
Lie on the grass banks near the meadow
The sun will rise from her forehead
you may not know it
And I may sink into deep oblivion
The stars may fizzle out one by one
Leaving nothing but for her to shine
Blessing of Goddess 🙏 Tara 🙏 while writing this….
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