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Lost my oar #kashurqalam In the middle of Wular, lost rudder Ripple of love forcibly dragged me down, The skilled plank heavy swimmed across the lake Like a corpse without core above the Blue. Who took rudder riding on horses two? Leaving this mundane mass at the mercy Of half dream, to wonder in 'ether' high, Where every vessel draws on by the wind Tied on finger tip of prophet Noah. Wave , melodious whirlpool submerged me In my own flood, I lost my ark handmade But Wular a drop reduced like being Till a song sweet amidst thousand notes sang The song , so much pure, the rudder appeared But with a golden hand and airth arms long. Skelton of hundred two and seven bones Has from my birth , before a source serene Met my source but only after losing, How great is loss! How vital is to lose , Losing is to board , leads to the Ganges Where sin sinks silently, emerges a saint Leading the race to bay without rudder.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 1/13/2017 8:05:00 AM
Loss is difficult, going without a rudder is tragic. Namaste.
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Book: Shattered Sighs