From 2015
Untitled : 16
Ancient, primeval in the cosmos
are the interiors
of the Earth, the Man and the Woman.
The Sun, open, candid,burning inside out,
but nothing to hide.
The space too, a vacuum filled with nothing and everything,
but, allows to be conquered, its vast dimensions, extending, opening,
but never closing.
The more we belong to the Earth, the more we take on her interiors. Caught between flying and deepening, the golden point of balance once lost,
the mind takes on the darkness of the Earth, her forbidden dimensions, the ring pass not that the Earth wears,
close to the centre of her heart!
Over her brow, the billowing ocean, the acme of her beauty,
surging to the calls of the moon,
ever renewed, ever young, the bosom which cradles the sailors in their ships, the undying energy spinning the aura of life of aeons.
And at the interior, an occult boundary, inaccessible to the most intelligent forces of the mystical universe,
Till the base of the oceanic crust, and the journey ends.
Beyond the crust, a mantle, a discontinuity,
life as we know, ends there and the death that we fear, reigns.
Occasionally, perhaps when the darkness is too much to bear,
the lava erupts and reminds the heaven, that darkness too is real
Ancient, primeval in the cosmos
are the interiors
of the Earth, the Man and the Woman.
The Sun, open, candid,burning inside out,
but nothing to hide.
The space too, a vacuum filled with nothing and everything,
but, allows to be conquered, its vast dimensions, extending, opening,
but never closing.
The more we belong to the Earth, the more we take on her interiors. Caught between flying and deepening, the golden point of balance once lost,
the mind takes on the darkness of the Earth, her forbidden dimensions, the ring pass not that the Earth wears,
close to the centre of her heart!
Over her brow, the billowing ocean, the acme of her beauty,
surging to the calls of the moon,
ever renewed, ever young, the bosom which cradles the sailors in their ships, the undying energy spinning the aura of life of aeons.
And at the interior, an occult boundary, inaccessible to the most intelligent forces of the mystical universe,
Till the base of the oceanic crust, and the journey ends.
Beyond the crust, a mantle, a discontinuity,
life as we know, ends there and the death that we fear, reigns.
Occasionally, perhaps when the darkness is too much to bear,
the lava erupts and reminds the heaven, that darkness too is real
Mar 27, 2017 
greetings back dear Sushama!
You are writing poetry
beautifully once again....
a blissful recovery....REPLY Mar 27, 2017 - Thanks Shantha. That was from the year 2015. Suma Ro reposted it. Have a blissful day +Shantha Hulme
REPLY Mar 27, 2017 
Suma Ro+2No thought
Has ever won
In time
You said,
I am loving you.
Wisdom
Of that light
Is smashing
Hell
Onto the ground.
Far beyond
Has ever gone
The blow,
With wind
I travel on.
For my friend +Sushama Karnik .REPLY Mar 28, 2017 - +Suma Ro
that is awfully beautiful...
"Is smashing
Hell
Onto the ground.
Far beyond
Has ever gone
The blow,
With wind
I travel on"
Keep up the inspiration..REPLY Mar 27, 2017 - +Sushama Karnik from the '15..
yes you posted some cool stuff then.
Here is one I had fallen in love with, I had saved it under Sushama...
not sure which year...
I think it was in 2015 that fabian discovered you,
Here is one of my favs..
"This little madness, away from the sadness
is welcome O foolish bird !
For without your silliness
this world will have to go without a song,
the howl of the wind will stop.
This world of Nature will miss it all
and go back to its silence of death again;
all will be the unvibrating cosmos again'
.
By Sushama Karnik
So thank you song bird!
-----------------REPLY Mar 27, 2017 - Thank you +Suma Ro and +Shantha Hulme.
Slowly, lovingly,
the clouds stoop
over the earth.
Drops of rain
listen and whistle to the words of the wind and the sea.
Drop by drop
each drop
is soaked in
by the silent earth.
The wonders of the season
show up
in the bristling of the grass-roots.
Rains always carry
a relevance for the wilting earth.
Thank you my friends Suma and ShanthaREPLY Mar 29, 2017 -
Mar 29, 2017
- O that is so full of moisture...
when there is a drought on earth...
Trump drought!!
you excel, bring rain..
Long time ago during one winter...was it
fourteen or fifteen?
you wrote a beautiful poem
on winter...and I shared it then...
Gotta locate it when I
got a min.
Rainy kisses
+Sushama Karnik also with a touch of
snow flakesREPLY Mar 29, 2017 - +Shantha Hulme As far back as I remember, in 2013, or maybe 14, I had written two poems with you in mind, in one of which I had thought of you as my twin soul. I shall try to retrieve them and repost for you.
REPLY Mar 29, 2017 - twin souls....what a
compliment. Yes would love to read those.
Pl repost.
kissesREPLY Mar 29, 2017 - +Suma Ro Ever so grateful to your wisdom light,
the wishborne light of the spirit bright
that dissipates the fog of the nightREPLY Mar 30, 2017
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