Some soup of peace in a solitary bowl

 

Here I stand on the edge

of a stony ledge

and look into the calm vastness

filled in this small bowl

of a little valley,

There is guileless silence,

I look with enormous wonderment,

Here the knots and blots of

forbidden intimacies open up,

and twisted love becomes peace.

A little stream flows

with astounding fluidity,

The sun marveling at

its own exquisite, ripply reflection

in a little pool,

Silence and peace

hung between timidity and cordiality,

Languorous sky imbued with solemnity,

And a lone lark

keeping  a solitary vigilance

over this unruffled, calm and gentility

in a little corner

far away from all

noise, wars, tantrums and fights.