The depth of silence is As deep As ocean of possibilities. Shaken, the ocean will splash Drops of gifts.
Time once revealed When the gifts will appear. It once said There is a moment in time.
Space once revealed Where the gifts will arrive. It once said There is a point in space.
Spacetime once revealed Why the gifts will engender. It once said There are reasons in life: Unfortunately wrapped In colours and shapes, Often times disguising things: A crow into a dove, A wolf into a sheep, A dumpsite into a garden, A villainess into a heroine, An evil witch into a kind queen, Bent into straight— Misleading this traveler’s direction.
Once it was said There is One That she will find Somewhere some time only if She minds.
Dear, Light. Only You can reveal True colours True shapes True hearts True reasons.
Be deeply silent Even in the crowd Where ocean of possibilities Is shaken In this spacious time.
Hey! The gift is relatively fair, Beloved. Be ready.
A lady is walking to the lake. An empty clay jar sits on her waist. Her hair is hanging loose, Listening to love songs, waving to the sky.
Sitting, she looks down Saying hi to her reflection on and on. My hair, thanks for growing long And for listening to my love songs.
A lady is walking back to home. A clay jar full of water sits on her waist. Her hair is waving by the wind: Spreading patchouli fragrance, calming down the lane.
Walking, she looks forward Humming her best love songs. My hair, thanks for spreading good scent And making my life so fragrant. My hair, thanks for being silken And keeping this flame ardent. My hair, grow grow long. My hair, listen to these love songs. My hair, stay here Until home is welcoming me.
Each and every one deserves love and appreciation. Today I took longer time to scrutinise and caress my hair; this stubborn tough protein deserves love and appreciation, too.
A hymn for my hair is not too much, an extra love after shampoo to clean, conditioner to soften and sometimes hair dye to match the mood.
Love makes heart full. Love makes heart empty. Love makes heart laugh. Love makes heart cry. Love makes heart closer. Love makes heart distant. Love makes heart trust. Love makes heart distrust. Love makes heart bloom. Love makes heart wither. Love makes heart healed. Love makes heart broken. Love makes heart warm. Love makes heart cold. Love makes heart enlightened. Love makes heart blinded. Love makes heart beautiful. Love makes heart wicked. Love makes heart bright. Love makes heart weary. Love makes heart sing. Love makes heart scold. Love makes heart write love poem. Love makes heart compose hate speech. Love makes heart recite ballads. Love makes heart scream hoax. Love makes heart look foolish. Love makes heart look angry. Love makes heart love more. Love makes heart hate more.
Love makes heart swing like a pendulum between two ends.
You say love is You say love is not You ask what is love
Love makes space To those willing To feel, To taste, To experience Millions of what’s-nots To know The what-is.
We decide Which space To be filled With what.
This is about love— An unlimited edition But still Difficult to grab.
You Have got everything: A sweetest smile, A cheery hello, A loving look, A warm hug, A good kiss All in loving care.
Yet in all daydreams of closeness and connection….
I wish to give You a warm kiss, Yet impossible As You are too high Up the sky;
I hope to give You a pretty daffodil Yet unlikely As You are too disguised Behind the curtain;
I want to spread for You a good breakfast Yet too early As You wake up too late In another day;
I want to paint You a red torii Yet too trivial As You know torii much Better than me;
I am writing You secret love poems Yet in vain As You don’t even care They exist.
Beloved, Breath is with what I count life. Breath is in what I save love. Breath is on what I paint faith. A warm kiss, A pretty daffodil, A good breakfast, A red torii, And secret love poems Have livened this breathing Although You have got A sweetest smile, A cheery hello, A loving look, A warm hug, A good kiss All in loving care.
Beloved, I only wish You behind the curtain See me breathing For and with You.
This long weekend of Eid Al-Adha is turning to brighter space with slow breathing, daydreaming and chili party.
Happy Eid Al-Adha, family and friends. Hope we are blessed with closeness and connection with the Source of Love.
I’ll send You postcards. Cards with white flower On white paper And some messages On white ink That will glow When You bring it to the dark. Only You and I know what it is Until one day You bring the light To burn it or frame it.
It seems raining behind the hills. Dark blue curtain Hanging from heaven Dances through her own rhythm.
Will it rain under the tree? You asked. Rain will pour down to the ground, Tree is your canopy. Will it flood on the pathway? You asked. Flood will turn to the river, Pathway is your journey. Will it be sunny? You asked. Sun shines with no holiday, Sunday is when you think you are free. Will you meet me? You asked. I am meeting you Through the rain and flood With the sun and cloud Everyday Without holiday. You seem to worry about the rain. The rain behind the hills? Dark blue curtain Hanging from heaven Dances with your rhythm. Keep walking, You see.
Have you heard of the word home? I often think of what it is And where it is.
My friends all say it. That it is where shelter is, That it is where family is, That it is where safety is, That it is where heart is, That it is this earth that spins, Blah blah blah, That it is this, That it is that.
What is a home?
I’m not as intelligent as they are. I can only tell what’s not a home. Sometimes my apartment isn’t a home. Sometimes my childhood home isn’t a home. Sometimes I don’t feel safe staying in this safest place. Sometimes my heart is flying across the ocean while I’m sitting in the sofa. This earth is traveling to where I don’t know. Sometimes I just don’t believe what my friends say about home. I’m sorry for being not so intelligent as all of you are.
I will keep identifying what’s not home Until I’m home.