satya

we all struggle,

under some moments of Truthfulness. 

Speak, only if you can attest

Hold, rather than deceit

I want to see you

I want to feel you

I want to know the deepest parts of you

Truth, 

if not, 

My attention won’t arrest. 

On the other side of fear

Fear

Walk to the edge of the cliff of my soul

do you see what’s out there?

I see a field of blossoming sunflowers

swaying  back and forth with the wind

angelic doves gracefully gliding above

little birds chirping 

chiming with the sound of neverending springy breeze

I see waves of clear blue sky reflected

in the still clear ocean

The smell of grass tickles on my nostrils 

I see paradise

I see paradise

So walk on to the edge of the cliff of my soul

and walk past where you’ve never gone before

and you will fly, 

you will be magical, 

you will be free

YC

Creative Ecstasy

I like the smell of the books that fills this room
Intoxicated off the sweet glass of poetry that swirls my heart
I melt into the creative flow between the rhythmic space between my canvass and the brush
My soul dances with the music you make for me
I can taste the sweetness of this very second on my tongue
Ecstasy overwhelms, this moment.

Early morning secrets

The other morning, I found myself walking out the door to get to work as the digital clock on my phone read 4:58 am, as I had an extremely early east coast call set up that morning. I know this sounds crazy, but I truly appreciate this very special connection I feel to the moon and the dark sky when I get up and get ready for the day that early in the morning.. as if I am getting some magical one-on-one time before any distractions from the day start to take away from the pure beauty of the sky. The town was still perfectly still, and I was intoxicated by its beauty and the silence, so I sat in my car all inspired and shit, risking being late to work a few minutes and frantically wrote this…

********************

Pitch dark out.

As if I am being let in on a secret

the world has yet to find out today

 

I indulge this moment deliciously

under the luminating aura of the silent morning moonlight

that’s yet too bright

to give over the baton over to the hidden sun

 

The twinkling still embedded in the dawn sky

sleepily starts to fade home

after a long night’s patrol

 

But wait,

what’s the secret

you are trying to let me in on, I ask,

 

The moon carefully tiptoes over to my ear,

trying not to awake the still dreaming town,

and gently whispers in my ear..

 

“This Bliss…

… in this Silence.”