Sit by the window and move far.
Range over the landscapes, quiet, dark and bright by turns,
suddenly overwhelmed by the sounds hovering around you
Unable to sort out the the real from the dream.
Caves and oceans and spaces.
The ecstatic and the sarcastic!
the tones and the needs of the hour, you rise and fall,
and hold on to the small voice that stays assured
because some beloved certainty is traveling with you all the time.
Sushama Karnik.
