Tales of the Wanderlust

  You are death. Still an arcane attraction, makes you, my orbital eccentricity. Like a alcoholic slowly drinking from the cup of his life, I move towards you to become one flash in your eternal glow, For dying in you, gives me the pleasure of having lived a thousand lives.   

May we be sensible to realise That the Journey is our destination. May we be wise to know That the purpose of life is to live wholesomely. May we be astute to ask the right questions and not to demand answer immediately. May we be prudent to set our priorities And achieve our aims. May we be open to embrace love When it comes to us And content to let it go when it wants. May we be humble to keep learning. May we be, always small to keep growing. May we all be blessed. May we be never too far Its small world - may we meet again Till then Bon Chance et Au revoir

Love feeds the root of life like an emitter, one drop at a time. One cannot posses it, One cannot assess it. It like God can be trusted in, but never proved. If one becomes its devotee he can feel it If one becomes its disciple he can learn it If one becomes an aficionado he can spread it If one becomes its connoisseur he can relish it But only when one is free he can love it. Love is not only living with it forever But love is also setting it free Letting it go And feeling content as long as it exists even if it does for someone else, somewhere else.

The Deafening sound of silence Subtle and humble, The disturbing noise of thoughts Overlapping Growing exponentially. Microcosm and Macrocosm And everlasting entanglement in it. Vagaries of life And life in those variations. Schizophrenic plot to plunder my soul. When these chains break When these stains evaporate When these waves subside Only one thing emerges True, eternal Clear concise I Me Myself Nirvana……