Feet carrying a body toward the temple of Iswara, as the eyes vacantly stare at the autumn sun setting in a blaze, he leaves his sandals and his thoughts at the periphery and enters the sanctum sanctorum, not a single soul in sight.
The priests and men find no use in idolatry, but his eyes overflowing with tears as he stares in awe at civa. No stone or idol here. No doubt and belief in mind.
Moment by moment his cup his overfilled and the tears, they shan’t stop
Reason he cannot follow, misery forever follows him,
Only Ananda walks side by side his path
And only civa could recall his tale.
Lies are what men inhale, the stillness and silence is what He exhales
Speech is shrouded in noise. This very noise makes of my nausea
The oceans make of the deep, The Mountains verily resolved in abiding in silence
Only man finds no use of them.
The salt remains sacred, she is in our tears and in the depth of the oceans
The Devotee walks in silence for this pleases the master.
So less of time, so much to see of her and we shall still prefer to be blind?
In this moment, which cannot be captured by thoughts in our mind, we remain here in the middle of this vast
So much of this breath wasted in empty noises? Wasted or stolen. If life be such. I am verily a thief and I plan to steal my life back. I taper around underground like a worm, waiting to be eaten by that angelic kite, my master my end
Verily the shining life.......
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