Three Celestial Miracles

When the moon nourishes the heart of a forlorn sand,
And when the shooting star orbits around Polaris,
Where shall the nomadic sand go to seek seeds of guidance?
If not for the celestial bodies embedded in our skies,
The moon would dwell on uneven edges of the Earth,
But as a sand seeking a fruitful tomorrow,
I camp on mountainous constellations,
Listening to Polaris’ revelations,
How the everlasting silences of the shooting star
Will recreate the Big Bang,
How the infinite smiles of the moon
Will redirect the flow of Time,
And we may once more wonder where will the
Forlorn nomadic sand be if not for these three?

Nature Talks No More

Mystical winds enveloped my breaths,
And took control over how I sang my soul,
And onto the ancient stones of a labyrinth,
I was raised into the heavens up above to
Shout cries of the earthly wonders to those
Who slowly kissed our hallow moon. And left.

The trees that fed us their roots for a revival,
Joined the ritual to dance their wisdom minds
Into our explorative souls that continued to fly
Into the depths of the seas, and to soar over the
Heights of the mountains – there I hugged the
Roots into a dance along the forest. And halted.

The nature’s musical stops at a beat that beats
The beating hearts into a shocking stop stopped
Beyond awakening – a deathly shock – bereaved
At the notion that everything is from beauty,
And hence, everything will return to beauty,
My beloved nature was cremated. And silenced.

Calming the Soul

Calm down O lovely soul within my drumming heart,
Listen to the whispering rivers that flow in the veins,
Breathe in many joys and out the shadows of misery,
Contact the dusts of Earth that you always walked on,
Live in peaceful silence and utter nothing but peace,
Claim your previous self and sleep in great serenity,
Stay voiceless but move around this ancient world,
Ignore the background noises of the ignorant fools,
Now think about the true nature of peace and justice.

Self-Study

Erase your annoyance over gullibility,
Remove the engrained hooks placed
To bait Time out of their praying souls,
Little preys to your predatory behaviour,
Empty hands quivering at the necessity
Of appreciating charitable giving of the
Goodness of this life and the hereafter,
A story about the return after exodus,
Ancestors tearful for the odd escape,
Something that foretold the encasing
Desolation and the purposelessness
Of your habitual soulless cold life,
Consequences of hesitant beats of
The heart would crumble your mind
Into cries of repetitive annoyance,
So, stop and seize your soul into
An empty room for a moment of
Total silence and a bit of cogitation.

On the Verge of

Tell not the mind about the palpitating heart
As it surfs freely onto its emotional waves,
Keep the logic at bay to feel a heatstroke,
Just once, and maybe give it a sunburn, too,
Something that would bring joy after sunset,
Like an aromatic summer sun-kissed morning,
A breakfast to my longing lazy hazel eyes,
And as the world utters heart-full songs,
(An adventurous journey of many silences)
Mountains cry aloud many silences,
Waves crush wildly into many silences,
Thunderous lightening shocks many silences,
Until many silences shake the earths of our whispers,
A volcanic earthquake to erupt the
Palpitating heart while the mind is still at bay,
And then another heart-full song about
A hopeful journey of a dehydrating branch
Of a disillusioned tree that follows
The rotten stars into massive graveyards,
Tombstones carving elaborate false banners,
And as the morning cries many more silences:
Sacrificial ones, peaceful ones, hopeful ones,
Ones that would rehydrate that particular branch
Towards the heavens to soar over clouds of bliss.