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Posts Tagged ‘spiritual’

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?

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The storm has calmed down now by the time
That touched you and touched me with love.
Let death distance us if it can with its strength,
We will be born again and again with our faith
That shall beat its wings with the dearest dove,
And sing the melody among lives so sublime.

Let thoughts be the orchestra and eyes paint
Desires unknown to the most reasoning minds,
Let this war be over, we’ll talk to the moments,
And walk on the green grass feeling the dews.
Let the temple doors open again and we light
The lamp and bow before the greatness of god.

The stones will remain, the soul will but flee
To its own kingdom of heaven where no fear
Will ever stand, no greed will ever question
The intent of life, the dissent for every death.
Let the muses come and guide us to the tree
Where flowers of gold breathe enough faith.
Let love fill every bard, let blessed be the eyes
As we greet every passing moment and rise.

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Yes, it is a symphony, very much here and now;
Pause at this moment and gather all the dreams,
All hope, and all that everyone wished us ever.
Fear is like a tattered coat, why wear it anymore,
Not thorns, but the beauty every rose is known for.

Who says you are alone among those dark towers?
Who says we are left only with the bleak hours?
Gather your breath and close the eyes for a while,
There stands the God we search, there is the smile,
There’s more heaven when we see the sky in this isle.

Those soft leaves of love now turn forever into gold,
Those faces like apparitions far disappear in cold.
Not enough time then remains for an adieu or ahoy,
Some lives are not chosen but become stars as told
Some moments that we wish much to become forever.

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Who says seasons change with time?
Who says we will die in the darkness?
Who says our prayers are only unheard?

Drop the fear, the anguish with time’s passage;
And let no stone be unturned if not by effort
But by the spirit of love till the eternity feels,
And invites us to join the chorus of the divine.
These stars are the saints, this light is ours;
Believe, and it all turns into light and glory.

Words fumble when the tongue feels the air;
Sight differs when the light fills us and lure
Every soul that comes across with the truth
Of this journey called life, this air called love.
We often give up just before we could achieve,
And close our eyes before the sight of fear.

Believe not in reason, but in faith for long;
For we are the soul; we are the song!

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It’s winter and there is cold breeze through the leaves
Hidden in the fog like a myth that will uncover soon;
and bells ringing on temples of ancient gods whom I know,
and hymns filled in the walls of my ear that pray the moon.
Does it all change? Does the face of innocence still glow?

There are flowers of the night still lying on my earth;
There are feathers that tossed in glory and filled the sky.
It’s not a tale, it’s not a night gone by and hours so slow;
A cult of colossal war hymn silenced by love and loss
That echoes between two mountains and like river flow
Into the ocean of life, to be born again to die and cross.

Between ignorance and ego all battles are fought forever;
Between the clever minds, the heart succumbs and shiver
with attempts to admire its own tale of honest moments.
There plays the violin by the sea side, there plays the flute;
There dance is frozen like an iceberg, and an artist paints
Like colours are eternal on this canvas of time together.

If a war can end with words, I will write in love more;
Than take shields of sorrow or settle on the shore.
My verse isn’t vast, but will fill the emptied soul of yours,
When your reason leaves you like a phoenix of course.

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Sand and stone flakes join and move fast into the eyes of time.
There is much music, the same ancient air that touched the genius.
I will not talk about the empire of gold that is dead, doesn’t rhyme
To our today, nor will pass to coming times with reason or rehearse.
It’s the same waves that touch the land of immortal art, of infinite
Life that segues through the rocks, through the music cast on stone.

There are percussions of chiseled moments, there is a known gloom,
When you stand before the Chariot of Sun with seven white horses
With wings of life, so ready for the flight and spring of life to bloom.
Sculpted emotions on these stones like a bouquet of eternal roses
Stand through the time, to reach every soul, to guide every journey.

I stand not like a saint but with infant steps, trying to feel the stone,
Feel the flakes, the wind from the sea that fills my vision and my soul.
To hear aloud the songs of my countrymen, touch the fabric of our own.
Like love, art too stands free, only eyes change and feel they hold it all.
If I could stay witness forever and tell this story to all lives that live;
This light that burns our ignorance, and endures more love to give.

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Who says it’s cold beyond the mountains that stand tall,
The sea that seems floating through the ages of hermitage?
The fear of losing the being with the wind that touched all,
Whistles of childhood, melodies of youth and vision of age.
All seems frozen in this arc of being an ancient, idle soul.

There is the violin under the oak, over the green grass;
There is music of the soul frozen in the air and dust
Like a blanket that gives comfort when our heart desires.
The bow is lying like a dead wood, like a lover’s note.
Frozen are the emotions here, frozen is the moment.
In life like in love, there too is a fragrance so divine.
No flower will stop war, till it reaches the unbridled swords.
No verse will be frozen forever, if has not touched your soul.

In terse and treacherous paths, often those that glitter
With honest efforts of love, life gets frozen like our master.

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