Tides of emotional water, high
Fluctuations masking the unmoving of this moment,
cloudy sky
Winds of all directions forcing weeping sages to close their eyes
The mind that arises from its sleep seeking identity in the ‘i’,
boasting lies
So when will the lion be awake
...
Bare feet always, even in shiny cities
While walking on golden desert sand, burning,
there is no reasoning
Framework of the chosen has not been proven-glory
The forgotten is not counted until one is reminded
Hands dirty
But Her holy water is near
Endlessly dear
What matters, really, who is who
The negation of all else paving path
is what gives hope when contrary waves crash
Days in the canvas of the eddying dusty storm
is to realize no experience can belong
The urge to express in form
is merely energy potential risen of the Total
Love is worthy
Although prayers and ashes may quarrel
There are stars above every single road
SitaraAlaknandShakti (c)
