The Fountain Dance

A harp string strung,
And the star shined,
Arabesque on stage,
All attention on her,
And I drift elsewhere.

Acoustic tone rings,
A many heartbeat,
A long-awaited voice,
Absent of any other,
Always hers I seek.

Aching for her soul,
Arms now upwards,
Ascending to infinity,
A heavenly fountain
Appearing from within.

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An Insightful Smile

Just when I claimed authority on naming the hidden souls,
Few emerged from the deep caverns of our mischievous era,
And few ascended into the glorious stage of heavenly winds,
But naming without seeking insight is an act of treason,
Treason towards the nature’s call for a justifiable beauty,
Such that we may realise not to disturb a leaf’s descent,
Or not to curse the cloud’s choice to reduce visibility,
Now that I have discovered the need not to name you,
I am free to be one with nature to gain an insightful smile.