At Your Door

The celestial bliss of the moon,
That rain in gallons; that night,
Lost in thoughts, I wondered,
Wandered, through the meadows miles afar.
No end did I know, why didn’t I know?
Why was I doing it? Knowingly or so?
But do not punish me anymore;
My heart is full from the grief of Time,
I am left at the doorstep;
But how, I want to move in,
Please open the door, to your heavenly abode,
Where does peace and love mine lies.
The best in the world can I get, so far,
Not so far, though, why did I fall short?

No, no. Let me in, for
This heart remains ever unquenched
Of its thirst, lost for days in the golden dunes.
Can’t I live without water, Yes, I can,
But not for long, the miles are too rough, I die soon;
Sooner in ought, this unrest can I hold no more.
Leave me not alone, hold me close,
Let your hand come through the door.
Open it! O open it I pray!
Let me in; no longer like this I can stay.
My heart palpitates, a little too on high,
Don’t go away, needless a goodbye;
Wait a moment in my memory’s mind,
I’ll forever be at your door, for one of your kind.

Spirits By The River

A Spring morning to begin with.
Gone we to work, though a holiday;
Unrest robbed the peace off the red;
Thought we, to sit along the banks of the Ganges.
No reason so to, yet the soul wants to;
And off we went, to the beckon of it.

Times now were not good, worst yet to come;
Sat we, not for atonement, but redress the peace
Which we lost; and so very true.
The fog brought the horizon nearer;
Sat we, as the breeze caressed our soul,
With its soft touch, which lay in;
The immortal voice; the spirits by the river.

Some used oars; some the noisy ones;
And some….yet none with sails.
They went across the river.
Slowly and steadily passed they in horizon;
Before leaving waved us as we waved;
Thousands unknown, yet were so known.

Therein a spirit surrounded us.
Closed eyes did we; opened our minds.
Closed ears did we; yet hummed a music.
Enchanted did we find the desired peace.
It spoke; we spoke, a long long time.
A gush of wind did the pigeons blow.
Stopped, looked at us, and flew away,
Again came back; to and fro.
Enlightened our minds, mesmerized the immortal self.
Not they were to blame but thank,
Peace restored; we owe it; the spirits by the river.