Dark Love

And the wind in it’s sadder tone,
Carried the news to distant homes:
“Ah! Fade the chords of love with time,
And I with them from thee resign.”

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They Call But I Remain.

Why is it that from darkness light looks so beautiful? And from pain, relief? Maybe this is my destiny, this hollow pit of sadness which I cannot escape, but then I think of these words, these dark letters full of sadness and they taunt me, they challenge me to come out, to escape, to fly. They call but I remain.

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Love Is All and Love Is Nothing

…a voice, a vibration, a lost soul, an unveiled destiny. Seen, unseen, known, unknown, stumbling through hazy visions of its unredeemed past, finding not what was but still is; a picture of Love. A stunning stroke on the black bare wall of its own prison and then void…Echoes making unbearable marks on the already insane mind, leaving behind a husk; nothing more.

Unprecedented order of events influences this mere husk and as a spectator to its own violation, it witnesses itself devoured in the silent sea of loneliness; and no effect of its own volition can ever stand against the mere shadow of that sea…and all this because of Love.

Tossing and jostling, this husk, on the crushing waves of the ocean of time and space, the torture never ends. Pain is no longer abhorrent but blissful, shadows do not insinuate fear but companionship.

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Prologue

Arlo could no longer see, the darkness had blended in so well; it seemed to him that only darkness was devoid of fragility, that only darkness had the solidity of a change-bringer. A soft whisper of movement slowed him to a stop, as a voice uttered a single word, “We.” But then it came from another and another and soon everywhere there was an echo, an echo which shook the heart, which moved mountains, which stilled the storms. It was an echo of creation, of the beginning and the ending, of the world and the universe. It was the voice of the Living.

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The Heart Of Nature

Nature is a treasure, nature is a blessing and we are too blind to notice its presence, its essence, its heart. The heart of nature beats in us yet we do not feel…

Rainbows arc on the morning sky,
And kiss the blossoms on their feet.
And soaring, soaring they must reach,
The cloud where Beauty sits to greet;
And stopping, resting sing to me…

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The Hollowness

It was a day that held memories; clear blue sky and the dulcet light of the sun made it all look divine, but no eye looked to the blue sea above or the dulcet sun, for all prospects held in their core some distorted image of a missing purpose, some empty part of life…

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