For You, Forever…

When you know it is few more moments left for me,
Promise me you will sing your heart and gift me a rose,
And I will find in silence the fragrance of that past,
The moments we lived, the dusts where roads cross.

Now there is no pain, no more anguish in that flame
Or fury among the thwarting testaments we read then,
But a prayer for you to find bliss soon and call by name
Each soul that met us and prayed for us to be together.

And tell them in a whisper, we will live and love again.
Time like a horse even in these last moments still hops,
To what desire, to where shall it take me in sun or in rain?
The breath sinks into you and time says this life just stops.

That tree remains there and someday flowers will come,
Someday invite more souls to reach and fall in love again.
No dream is enough to live now, no life is less than a home,
I now quietly move with folded hands, nor anything to gain.

I will wait for you forever till your eyes become more love.
I will be over the rain-washed bough and sing like a dove.


Words from the Mirror

Nothing remains, nothing that we feel, we know,
Yet we men, like a bundle of dust, feel like a storm.
Who bothers to count the waves through the years?
Who holds the breath and journeys into the light?
No wealth, no world can ever bring joy as the tears
That roll from the eyes of a served soul in the dome.
No beauty is as beautiful ever, as the love’s glow.

What perturbs doesn’t lead to peace or the path,
But runs in the realms of being born so many times.
What height will our crafted dreams touch in the dark,
If not water the oak or paint the sky full of stars?
Read this verse only to yourself, the world will hark,
If our silence now doesn’t mean, nor will our rhymes.
With gratitude will all leaves fall at the wind’s birth.

Pause now! The paradise is here in every deed of love.
Who dies, who lives, who can write forever to prove?

We are forever

When I am gone into the quiet ripples of the sea,
And my dream becomes every breath that I take,
You must promise me; you will not follow or flee
from the frozen shades of the years we have lived.
When the soul cries, everything looks a blur to me,
Those small little tears rolling in the rain to break
That silence for someday to someone who can see
And make a note that love is not lost, love is so true.
Hate is too harsh a word; fear too is clueless of time.

We are the prayer

I wish every verse of mine is written on stone,
In a land that no men ever ventured with fear,
But in search of an infinite love, an endless air
That brings warmth to every old and cold bone.
Desire that mind will ever drape and will smear,
Will lead your soul nowhere but to a dark land
Full of agony, full of trepid testaments in hand.
In love there isn’t any doubt, but a windy tear.

Who will awaken if not those moments of truth,
A parting soul, a perfect poem, a poised tune?
Pause, not look behind nor listen the uncouth,
If love not makes you a hermit under the moon
These meters are fake and rhymes are a dry moan,
Like vessels to float with every waves in brown.

Someday you will listen to this flute when alone,
And mocking birds making their trip to a hill down
Someday, when you come back again to these verse,
Even the heart will like a dreamy puppet rehearse.

When you are done, when you are sure and all grown,
Let love alone guide you, let the soul be all alone.

We are the love, we are the faith and the prayer.

Love is immortal

Life after life, after every known death,
I will be here again among your breath.
Like a rolling reel, it will all perhaps pass,
But I will be beside you in every dance.
We are not bothered, we are not away,
We are somewhere midst of a lovely day.

Who says we are parted, who likes to walk
Alone in a forest where emptied souls talk
Partly in fear, partly in tear, smiling at hope?
We are not miles, but moments away now,
The thought of falling leaves from a bough
Where winds of change forever will grope.

Let our pursuit gather more courage ever.
Let our souls in love keep the faith forever.

The Poet’s Pause

Among the thistle under a purple sky and a cotton-like cloud
After an untimed rain, the petrichor, the path leads in quiet;
The crowd moves on, the wind beneath stares, screams aloud,
The reasons of our ruin, the darkness before the soul’s light.

Who waits in this rush, who whispers peace for lives bound
By reason of gathering all things that do not stay even right?
Dream is for the desolate air; a solitary soul walks the ground,
Only to breathe freedom now from this fear of fusion and fight.

That mirror is blurred, that chord is strangled among our pleas,
He who stands untouched by time is our soul and not the trees.


Who says there is darkness, who says time ends
Our desire to love among each wave that bends?
Not whispers, nor this changing world will ever last,
Why fear, why swing among the thoughts of the past?
Who says this heart will not beat again, who says?
This soul will not tread the same path in sun rays?
Temple to temple, door to door, we knock for peace,
Who says our god doesn’t exist in our most loved kiss?