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Shanavas Konarath Poem
Black and white
eyes,
cameras to see
colour dreams with.
Lakes which are the source
Of rare joys,
Of much sorrows..
It is curtains
when sight ends.
The most beautiful eye
is the peacock feather..
Locks are opened
by Dreams.
What else is
more free!
Finding
lost ones.
Placing within reach
unreachable ones..
Other than dreams
what else has wings?
But
like crystals they are..
They shatter on falling
and cannot be put together again..
Copyright © Shanavas Konarath | Year Posted 2013
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Shanavas Konarath Poem
The Ascetic verbalized.
Give way for wind, hear the wind in the silence too
To be in the know of things and make others know.
Let the silence be the words to be pronounced!
Be enable to merge the sound and words.
Overcoming is the self - realization.
The way to beatitude is the most delectable text of love ever written.
The knowledge radiates light on darkness.
That light usher enlightenment for which you do not need to change the dress codes.
One who detach from the entanglement of material desires becomes weightless like feather.
That perpetually occurs in solitude.
To see the outer reality one does not need to open the eyes.
Given knowledge always embers.
It is not an accepted doctrine only.
The beauty of the God’s love is nothing but the significance of knowledge.
Those who understand the God and experience Him are really said to be the lovers of mankind.
Whereas, God disappears from the devotees and admirers.
Copyright © Shanavas Konarath | Year Posted 2015
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Shanavas Konarath Poem
SOLILOQUE
.................
Alone in the way; without seeing even a single way amongst thousand ways. But he could see a lamp where cobblers and emperors stand together, lamentably begging.
Some of them were not reluctant even to steal the iris of the God.
And their prayers turned out to be a question towards the God.
Went back.
Free from edifice.
Since then, never prayed.
One cannot worship the flowers of prayer with the thorn of appeal; cannot touch either.
Once, at an unforgettable time of loving experience, God asked me.
Is there anything to be appealed?
undoubtedly answered.
Nothing but love; to give and take.
This heart itself is notes of love and the offertory as well.
Songs of love by obliterating heaven and hell.
Wrap up my heart with your esteemed love.
Melt me down with your thermal love.
Copyright © Shanavas Konarath | Year Posted 2017
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