a lone button waits softly
dust gathering where touch once lived
dreaming of floors never reached
forgotten ascent
a lone button waits softly
dust gathering where touch once lived
dreaming of floors never reached
forgotten ascent
I approach
an ethereal field
where purple thistles breathe beside blue hydrangeas
and wisterias drift like slow-moving prayers
the air glows
with a hush that feels older than memory
as a star-studded staircase
unfurls before me
rising into an indigo sky
that seems to know my name
joy gathers in my chest
light as a lifted wing
as I ascend
step by shimmering step
until the world below
softens into silence
above me
marvelous lakes and silver streams
open like a dream returning
and there~
anchored to a mystical pier~
my father waits,
his fishing boat
rocking gently
as if it recognizes me first
I climb in
and without a single word
we drift
down a star-filled lake
the oars barely touching
the luminous water
and ahead
in a radiance that feels like home
our Heavenly Father waits
He lifts His hand
and motions us forward
and weightlessness
holy
quiet
complete
envelopes us
as if Love itself
has taken the oars
one
soft hush
silver drift
softening thoughts
into pale wonder
where memories soften
souls loosen their edges now
light slips slowly through quiet seams
until the self thins to a whisper
rising, carried on breath of the Unseen
Looking through the soul’s eye, all seen as one,
ego deems enlightenment is attained,
since awareness is from ego unchained
and no stories by lower mind are spun
but since flame of love shines not like the sun,
God’s light that lights all lights, not yet ingrained,
in truth the neophyte’s heart is still stained,
needing self-appraisal to come undone.
If Holy Spirit has not yet touched form,
the soul here now cannot metamorphose,
bereft of love, knowing not bliss delight,
sublime elixir, that stills every storm,
ensuring breath by breath, love and light grows,
transforming body-mind as living light.
It arrives not as a slow dawn, but a fracture—
A sudden, violent tearing of the gray,
Where neurotransmitters leap in manufactured rapture,
And logic bends to the blinding light of day.
It is a temporary kingdom built on air,
A frantic, soaring, breathless, desperate high,
Ignoring the foundation of despair,
To watch the mundane world dwindle and die.
The heart becomes a drum with an accelerated beat,
Distorting time until the seconds, stretch and bend,
A breathless rush, a sweet and sharp deceit,
That promises a joy without an end.
It is the apex where the self dissolves,
A chemical, ethereal, phantom grace,
Where gravity loses its hold, and ego solves,
Into a momentary, breathless, liminal space.
But at its peak, the architecture starts to lean,
For all ascension mandates a return,
The higher the flight, the deeper the machine
Must crash when the bright, burning engines turn.
Euphoria is a loan, a borrowed debt,
A fleeting, dazzling, brilliant, stolen breath,
That leaves the trembling, wakeful mind to fret,
In the quiet, cold, inevitable aftermath of death.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I grip the safety bar and breathe in,
my knuckles bleach white.
The gondola creaks,
swaying with the weight of wonder
The seat lurches forward~
I count each click of the gears rising,
each notch bringing me closer
to the apex where the sky hesitates.
Up and up! Below me~
the park shrinks into a toy set
abandoned by careless hands.
At the top, the world shifts.
Cars blend into the streets like melted crayons.
Lights blur into liquid amber,
streaking across my retinas.
My stomach lifts, not from height
but from the sudden understanding
that the world is round after all.
I can see the curve of it now,
the way the horizon bends
to meet my dangling shoes.
At the top, I stop breathing,
just long enough to let the moment
stretch like taffy between my fingers.
Years ago I wrote a memoir vignette ("Ticket to Ride") based on this experience; you may read it at Poetry Soup as follows: www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/ticket_to_ride_13584
I want to dive deep into my soul,
to search for answers profound and unspoken,
answers that stir awakening within,
that unsettle complacency and breathe
new life
into the quiet chambers of my being.
I yearn to travel beyond familiar horizons,
to embrace new ways of thinking,
to unlearn what no longer serves
and relearn the courage to see differently.
Each obstacle blocking my growth
becomes a threshold to cross,
each fear a lesson demanding honesty.
I press forward—sometimes faltering,
yet resolute—toward a higher calling,
where becoming matters more than arriving,
and the journey itself reshapes my soul.
Mind ignites the world turns slow
Colors ripple thoughts overflow
Walking along the clifftop
Balancing on the edge
One side solid and known
The other not
What began in a run
Ends with a crawl
One side ice
The other fire
A tightrope of our sanity
Reality or fantasy
Who really knows
(11/9/25)
It is our chin chakra’s resolve,
that our heart be poised in the void,
as a sublime, flicker-free flame,
that we may breath by breath evolve,
revealing soul’s light unalloyed,
becoming thus our claim to fame.
Bereft of fear and dark desire,
with attention internalised,
throb of bliss magnetism invoked,
caress of which we never tire,
truth of oneness is realised,
with our presence with God’s will yoked.
Easy is our ascent uphill,
since we have surrendered our will.
Humming a love song, atop love’s moonbeam,
our focus fixated on God alone,
we recognise earth life as but a dream.
Intuiting life’s not what it does seem,
heart the sanctum where we choose to atone,
humming a love song, atop love’s moonbeam.
With heart our fulcrum, high on self-esteem,
as breath by breath our consciousness we hone,
we recognise earth life as but a dream.
The seeds of joy planted, we now redeem,
seeking God realisation full blown,
humming a love song, atop love’s moonbeam.
Imbibing bliss of magnitude extreme,
gradually coming into our own,
we recognise earth life as but a dream.
With head and heart now working as a team,
slowing down life’s pace, mellowing our tone,
humming a love song, atop love’s moonbeam,
we recognise earth life as but a dream.
India ascent to mount everest
India known to be finest economy
But dead economy echoes nation-wide
India known to be military might
But india is outweaponised by enemy's hypersonic jets
India known to be emerging hindu nation
But no reincarnation,no salvation
does India suffers from activities deficit phobia,sovereignty deficit, phobia,height phobia?
india's highest peak expedition without getting eaten alive
Into the thin air,out of thin air
India ascent to mount everest
Our identity within existence,
which reworded, simply means the ego,
pursues narrow goals, which is resistance,
to attachments we are loathe to let go
and therefore truth of Self we do not know.
Such a seeker ascends in vibration,
domain hopping across God’s creation.
Siddhis or powers imbibed and displayed,
keep such a seeker distanced from the source,
shifting roles, in different domains played,
until self-realising use of force
is of no avail, so then shifts life’s course.
Who God is we can never realise,
unless wayward ego we vaporise.
Before thought–the heart: a struck bell's hum,
in the chest's dark chapel. No word. Only thrum
that echoes the void where meaningwill climb.
Is this the soul's raw conference? A draft.
of prayer–unwritten–lifting like a raft
on some deep tide. Not speech. Not yet. But chime
of nerve and grace. Mind fumbles, blind, to trace
this pulse–intent–before it wears time's face.
The vibration: God's fingerprint, half-dreamed,
still tuning the harp of the unsung.
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