Beneath the silence unspoken for.

Sometimes, I wonder what it holds.

When I sit in its precocious company, 

no sound under the mossy heath.

 

I touch the silence with my half-knowing, 

                 two paths 

                           merging into 

                  one unfold.

But I am alone, no one there.

I look around, hopeful 

the silence speaks here.

But the eternal question 

stays magnolia. 

Will the silence ever reverberate

in words, or will it only

be a fragrant, yes?

 

*

An alive chirp on the edge of time. 

The day takes its first breath.

The glint of Divine Truth bathes

the soul in its soft, porous light. 

I perambulate in the primordial river that keeps the silent sound.

Silence breaks into stillness. No chasm there. 

It rivers over rocks, cascades wherein 

is an order of unionised love and parting.

*

 

Listen to Divine: He already answered in a mystic friend's eyes.

Why seek the ineffable strain in his soul’s silence?

Let the drop of uncertainty swim in the all-knowing ocean.

How ambiguous; how Divine. 

We awaken to ‘The Silence’

in palpable silences.

Moving stillness,

quivering quietude,

a vortex of creation.

Here, love resides interconnected to the cosmos.

Senses non-functional, 

pure consciousness alive.

The silences bloom from 

the opening of the heart 

and absence of mind.

To be ‘The Silence’ — can the silences cease?

  * In the vastitude within is a silent space. Everything exists in it, yet nothing is there. A fuzzy line guards this emptiness. In this fuzzy line, mind and body are present, and beyond the line, nothing. 

The play of nothing and everything happens when the mind and body disappear, and a space unveils. This empty space that is a wordless echo is like a vacuum. And nature abhors a vacuum. This means this space is no longer empty but filled with nothing. This nothing transforms into everything in a state of divine union. The everything is the Absolute, a seat of divine creation. 

 

A low temple keeps its gods in the dark, 64 

A plump gold carp nudges a lily pad, 151

A shorelamp drops, 87

Fire-lit, 85

From the long dark tunnel, 18

I do not know what station this is, or why, 129

I sit here, waiting for her, sit here, 32

Images consult, 45

Just to keep the heart’s simple given beat, 44

Look, look, 58

Losing everytime I win, climbing, 44

Luminous new leaf, 121

Sometimes a rain comes, 23

Tense, wizened, 166

The chinar confronts the sunset, 87

The old fort has only one access, 113

The unrest of desire is lit up with eyes, 84

These days, 31

This thing, 27

To make love with a stranger is the best, 155

Well, you can’t say, 116

What is god, 67

You leave the little temple town, 71