Her

Her hair was on her eyes,
Twisted and swirled at fine lengths;
Each time her head would turn,
they'd fit around her shoulders with perfection..

This other kind of perfection..
with no measures, parallels - no absolution.
Every idea, every happenstance
centered around her
reverberated in its own charm,
serendipitously bound in her aura-
catching eyes and melting hearts.

My disillusionment, or..
Her.

Of Everything

Of winds and setting sails
Of faith and holy grails
Of rain and child's play
Of doubts and castles of clay
Of light and the stars that shine
Of love and yearning and hearts that entwine
Of beauty and the spark in the eyes
Of  folk ballads and words of the wise
Of restless feet and the desire to fly
I'm here to talk of everything you ignore
- but cannot deny

To Auroville

From those rigid, box-spring mattresses,
pestering wooden frames
and leaking brick walls of conscience
- I could've been lost here

To a dome of acceptance
Of flawed existence,
And bamboo roofs
And passion -
burning the floor underneath the feet!

I could be lost here.

Revelation

A wanderer into the land of many thoughts,
The trails of foot steps of a nascent civilization.
Hiding in the urban noise elsewhere,
Much like a predator prawling on a confused herd
Or more often a hare slipping into its burrow-
Now roaring into the silent night sky..
Purposeless yet affirmative!

Carter Road - III

The orthodox moon was adamant tonight at losing its identity into the believable, presumptive sea. It gradually crawled its way into the Western skies and modestly sunk its crescence into the unpredictable darkness at the horizon.

The sky was still bright. The stars were making a point. The very core of our existence..

Do people in heaven ever look up and wonder?