Here I am!

Here I am

standing with open hands,

empty heart,

bewildered mind.

Here I am

lamenting day and night,

poisoned by the

contents of my mind.

Here I am

kneeling,

screaming,

begging the Divine:

‘What’s the purpose of this life?

Why can’t I just stop wasting time?

Simply show me a sign!’

Here I am

chanting your Names Divine,

by tongue, hands, and mind,

but yet somehow

my heart remains dead inside.

Here I am

preaching lofty ideals,

subscribing to Godly meals,

yet keeping the ego at centre.

Here I am

forgetting to let go

and remember that

You are in control.

Here I am

proclaiming to all,

that I am about to lose it all!

I guess that was Your plan

 from the get-go!

Here I am

standing now,

with an open heart,

ready to receive

what You are always

ready to give!

Oh, Dear Friend,

take my body by the hand,

infuse my intelligence,

and seduce my heart,

so I can become

the instrument of your Plan!

Here I am

waiting for Your

universal embrace!

Dancing with Death

From cradle to grave,

life is a dance.

Dance of bodies,

dance of minds,

dance of hearts.

Dance partners come and go,

but Death never let us go!

Boyhood, adulthood, and old age,

are the different styles we change.

Husbands, wives, daughters and sons,

are the different partners,

with whom we engage.

Step to the left,

step to the right,

dying slowly

 with every breath we take.

Sometimes we lose the rhythm,

often times we mistake the tune,

and most times we forget,

that Death leads the dance.

Dancing with Death daily,

makes our hearts fearless,

to forget ourselves,

and simply be the spark,

that ignites the fire,

in the hearts of others.

Dancing with Death daily,

is the only way for us

to embrace life fully,

in the here and now,

‘cause This moment is part of

Eternity,

‘cause This moment is part of

surrendering.  

Living on Rent

Mine or yours,

yours or mine,

life is hard to define,

when our mind and heart

is empty of the Divine.

We forgetful souls,

have the habit of

claiming this and that to be ours.

We forgetful souls.

have the habit of,

controlling others.

A possessive voice echoes

within the chambers of our hearts:

‘This body is ours,

that mind is ours,

that land, that lake, that Earth-

all ours to manage.’

Forgetting the simple truth,

that right from the start,

life was something borrowed,

something gifted, something not ours!

Forgetting the simple truth,

that we are living on rent.

Rented bodies, rented talents,

rented hearts, rented minds!

But at the end of the day,

there is always rent to pay!

Our rent can’t be paid with

money, possessions, or power!

Our Landlord Divine,

has only one request-

to serve and dance,

until the final rest.

Our Landlord Divine,

has only one request-

to dive deep and surrender

all the rest.

‘Give up this body, this mind,

and come with Me,

for your Final Test!’-

Our Landlord Divine,

never ceases to call us

the forgetful souls,

with His Flute Divine.

Melancholy

Melancholy

Empty hearts, empty souls,

walking up and down.

This aimless crowd,

lacks the sound,

the sound of joy,

the sound of peace,

the sound of hope,

and the sound of beautiful tomorrow.

Not knowing who they are,

what they are,

how they are,

and why they are.

Numbing spirits pouring down their throats,

Slowly building up their walls.

 Walls defending them from what?!

Clueless, they are about that!

Keep playing up the roles,

 of the sons and  the daughters,

the brothers and the sisters,

the husbands and the wives,

the businessmen and the businesswomen,

the consultants and the advisers,

the politicians and the diplomats,

the artists and the musicians,

the kings and the queens,

the gods and the goddesses.

Ignoring the simple fact,

that the Goddess of All,

Her timeless Majesty the Queen of Death,

Has them All!

Alone they were born,

Alone they will perish!

For them all,

 her Majesty’s Cosmic Dance,

ceaselessly unfolds,

step after step,

breath after breath,

smile after smile,

and teardrop after teardrop.

Leaving only, a trail of Cosmic Stardust,

a basket full of,

 dreams unfollowed,

fears unchallenged,

words unsaid,

and promises never kept!

A veil of melancholy,

remorse,

and darkness

has engulfed this crowd.

The little Lightness left,

 has been buried,

somewhere deep into the hearts.

The little joy, the little beauty,

The little inner peace,

something big, some bigger Force,

a Promethean determination,

would be needed,

to bring it out into the world.

If not that, a little crisis,

A little loss,

A little pain,

A little bit of that, or a little bit of this,

is all is needed,

to remind,

this hopeless and aimless crowd,

about the Beauty that lies within,

within the hearts in each one of them.

Oh, this inner Beauty,

oh, this inner Love,

is the only tool,

 to embrace,

the Cosmic Dance,

of her Majesty,

the Queen, the Goddess of Death,

and then dance with Her,

dance with Her,

‘till the end of times,

‘till their final breath,

‘till their final step, or smile!

And if that’s not recipe for Life,

I don’t know what else there is!?

Metropolis

 

The Metropole,

Mother of all cities

nested in the night,

illuminates the sky.

Billboards,

city lights,

 corner shops,

buses and the cars,

people and the stands,

all part, all a cog,

all a string, or screw,

of this orchestrated mechanical symphony.

All playing their parts,

through the alchemy of their hearts.

All screaming,

shouting,

whispering,

‘Give me more, Give me more! I can’t get enough!’

 Faces, all glued to the ground,

drumming their fingers on the illuminated screens.

Smells,

sounds,

and drives,

constantly bombarding their,

noses,

eyes,

ears,

and minds.

Oh, Metropole, Mother of all cities,

this very symphony of yours,

it does never stop!

In the middle of all,

though,

there in the ground,

lies a flower.

White,

beautiful,

and healthy,

somehow thriving,

defying any logic,

The White Rose withstands,

this final hour.

Standing tall like a soldier,

and shining bright like the Moon,

the White Rose stands there,

in the middle of the square,

in its last stand against the Metropole!

Suddenly, a child appears!

And our last rebel, the White Rose,

is about to disappear.

The violent hand approaches,

and from the ground uproots the flower!

Alas, this is how,

The Mother of all cities, the Metropole,

has silenced her last opponent,

the last rebellion!

Alas, this is how, the Mother of all cities,

the Metropole,

became also the Master of All,

the Master of All among the living…

Graceful Death

 

She just finished cleaning the bar area, when her colleague came out of the bathroom. He was also carrying her jacket. She thanked him and put it on. Then both of them left the building. They departed. Each one of them went the opposite direction towards their respective homes.

The night has started its reign and the night queen, the Moon, was shining from the Heavens. It was long way after midnight. It has been a long day for our heroine. She was physically exhausted, but at the same time, in a very peaceful state of mind. She was slowly making her usual after work walk up the hill, where her house was. The air was fresh, as there was a gentle summer breeze, which has blown away all the car pollution. Our heroine was breathing deeply, as she was passing through a public park. The place was soulless. No one was there at this time of the night. Peace and quiet. The pond in the middle of the park was casting almost a perfect reflection of the night sky. This made our heroine realize, how beautiful her surrounding were.

She made her way out of the public park and entered a path that was going through a field.  Our heroine saw that there was a herd of cows in the distance. They were lying on the ground, sleeping quietly and peacefully. Our heroine heard the calling of the Owl coming from the public park behind her. She remembered that she had read that in some Native American folklore the Owl represented death. This memory made our heroine thoughtful, but at the same time made her shiver. She continued walking up the road trying to distract herself from the call of the Owl.

The end of the path led our heroine to the fences and the door of the enclosed field. She opened it and came out on a high street.  She continued walking up the street and headed towards a junction, through which she normally passed, in order to get to the street where her house was. As she approached the traffic lights, our heroine noticed something lying on floor. Something that the passing cars were carefully avoiding. She was suddenly struck by a realization, as she started crossing the street and approaching the thing that the cars were avoiding. A rather grim realization, though. The symbolic call of the Owl has manifested itself into the material world. There was a dead animal of some sort and the cars were trying not to run over it.

At first, our heroine couldn’t discern what the animal was. It looked like a cat from the distance. However, as our heroine was making her way on the other side of the street, she recognized the animal, as a small baby fox. This realization has completely messed up the internal world of our heroine. She stopped at the other side of the street and started staring at the dead animal. She noticed that in reality the baby fox was in the process of dying, as its belly was pumping up and down. However, the baby fox must have been hit by a car that has broken its neck, our heroine thought. At this moment of insight, a wave of emotions has almost drowned our heroine. Disgust, fear, appreciation, awe, humbleness, sadness. She couldn’t move. Tears started trickling down here face. She was paralyzed. All she could do was just wait. Wait for the last dying breath of this baby fox. Wait for the final moment of when the spirit would have left the material body of this poor creature. The end of all suffering.

A Graceful Death our heroine was thinking, as she was looking at the poor baby fox. Graceful because our heroine unintentionally has turned into the Goddess of Time. The time of death for our baby fox. The time of release of this material body. The time of transfiguration of the soul into another life form. She was feeling hopeless and helpless. Tears were still coming down her face. The poundings of the baby fox’s chest were slowing down. The moment was coming. This made our heroine think about her own existence. Her own soul. Her place in this life. Her place in this Universe. Her relations with the surrounding world.  The poundings had stopped abruptly. Death has arrived. It stole away the life force of this creature.

Our heroine couldn’t believe what she was witnessing and experiencing at the same time. Her hands were shaking, but she felt she had an obligation to do something. So she went on the street and moved the soulless body to the side and put it on the pavement. She couldn’t just leave it on the middle of the road. She felt obligated to move it away from the tires of the cars. An obligation she had never experienced before. A Law surpassing any worldly matters. A Spiritual Law. As she left the body on the pavement, our heroine realized that this experience had changed something in her inner world. Something very subtle but yet profound. She felt connected. She felt Grace. Grace manifested itself through the death of this poor creature.

Our heroine started walking away towards her house. Tears still coming down her face. She felt mesmerized and humbled at the same time.

‘Graceful Death, what a Graceful Death!?’- she said out loud  to herself, as she kept walking.