I am in here.
Deliverance is not for me in renunciation. I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight. Thou ever pourest for me the fresh drought of thy wine of various colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim. My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place … Continue reading Gitanjali #73
So I would hear out those lungs, The air split into nine levels, Some gift of tongues of the whistler In the invalid’s bed: my mother, Warbling all day to herself The thousand variations of one song; It is called Buckdancer’s Choice. For years, they have all been dying Out, the classic buck-and-wing men Of … Continue reading Buckdancer's Choice
Law, say the gardeners, is the sun, Law is the one All gardeners obey To-morrow, yesterday, to-day. Law is the wisdom of the old The impotent grandfathers shrilly scold; The grandchildren put out a treble tongue, Law is the senses of the young. Law, says the priest with a priestly look, Expounding to an unpriestly … Continue reading Law Like Love
new worlds shine in the dust come up through the slums of the mind only to choke on mosquito ideas. it’s most difficult like eating a salad in the ordinary café of the world; it’s most difficult to create art here. look about. the pieces to work with are missing. they must be created or … Continue reading the ordinary café of the world
white pebble 