Like an eagle I soar and spin,
Hover over the skies within;
Searching something hidden for long,
Whence my life, like the Om, prolong;
Incessantly tuning...
A million stars of virtues shine,
With moons of morals intertwine;
Sun of honor never does set,
Entire heart does not seem bright, yet;
Dark spaces still swooning...
Enlightenment awaits the dawn,
Sacred fig trees boringly yawn;
Are Buddhas gone on holidays?
Are aspirations on stargaze?
Refrains from far crooning...
Divine spirit severely shakes,
Interiors, like the earthquakes;
Earth and heaven extend to meet,
Oceans and constellations greet;
Hearts and minds attuning...
21 April 2022
Categories:
sacred fig, journey, self,
Form: ABC
Will these nests of sparrows go so empty?
And these sacred fig trees ever get dried?
If eagles need to build their nests trendy,
Will these nests of sparrows go so empty?
Should little birds get illegally fired?
Just because from somewhere some birds arrived,
Will these nests of sparrows go so empty?
And these sacred fig trees ever get dried?
16 June 20021
Categories:
sacred fig, fear,
Form: Triolet
Living through long winter of northern India with nostalgic feelings of grace, peace, and comfort; traveling around to places where one could breathe a sigh of relief - ‘God’s own country’, Churches, temples, grave-yards, crematoriums - all imparting feelings as silent as silence itself and thus putting strength and vigor into an energy-drained-out body and mind until the spring creeps in and one reaches and wakes to the jubilations of flowers, birds and the whole of the Mother-Nature.
herbal breeze
little monks under sacred fig trees
Buddha smiles
Categories:
sacred fig, spring,
Form: Haibun