A touch of desire and mischief

My heart's sandy beach
always awaits thy tidal reach
to bring it back to life;

to feel thy pleasant strife,

The lifeless grains of sand

dance with joy as you land

upon my beached self,

You, caress, shove, swipe

and cuddling full and ripe,

You rearrange the boring design,

You carry the experience 

of the seas far away

with its countless wavy sway

and jostle, heave your breast

lifefully on my chest,

Seeks your fickle self some rest,

A sea of possibilities your your breast,

You bring a noise 

that sees through the sandy silence,

You kiss the grains of my being

with your salty, effervescent lips,

You sway

and make hay,

massaging me with your fluidity

and stormy charms,

Then you slip out of my pining arms,

heartlessly recede and go away

far into the depths of the sea,

And I look alone and forlorn,

waiting for your return

to bring me again back to life.

 

The Night

 

Lipstick on Her dark face,
arriving like a sweet seductress
to embrace us all for rest, repose and sleep,
For many promises to keep,
Welcome o thou lovely Night!
Help me in my very own fight!

Love Sutra

The shape of my love 
is like water. 
It will fill up 
any vessel you hold...

The shape of my love

My love is like water,

It'll change, adapt, reshape

and lovingly drape

around thy teasing feminine shifts

and sometimes testing drifts

and still more enchanting, innocent trips

of your lovely, deep heart,

Filling it with light would be an art.

My love is like a river

and won't shiver

on coming across

the stones of your pain

scattered on your path,

It'll gently curve around

and caress, hug and surround

with its embracing fluidity.

It's dancing and in flow,

Carrying its joyous glow,

It knows one's heart is not a fixed cast,

Rather it's a panorama vast,

Where highs and lows give blast,

The heart is reshaping and reborn ever,

But my love pure though is yet clever

to go into the chambers where you need

a nourishing emotional feed.

It doesn't expect a smooth ride,

It feels your heaving tide, 

But it'd enjoy a walk by your side,

It would be lovely to flop,

rise and drop

along crests and troughs of your waves,

This up and down it craves.

It'll flow like air

across your hair,

It'll be always eager to touch 

with excitement much

all the colors and layers of your being.

It's enough and full

and always there with its pull,

It wants you to rise,

be free and touch all highs.

Why is it so happy to be such?

Ecstatic and joyous much,

Because now it can dance

as if in a holy trance,

It can see itself through you,

A glinting fresh drop of dew

on your petalous smile.    

Cosmic dance... fluidity

Here, the last remains of the day; 
There, a new day's first ray.
 It's never about beginning or end.
Just a handover, 
a mere transition, 
a process, 
a continuity.

Being in the womb of non-being

Aha that solitude's brace
with full grace
on one's hassled self!

The fragrance of silence

away from the mind's violence,

Smell it,

Enjoy to the last bit,

But never forget 

the scent of humanity,

It has its own beauty,

The sweet-sour smell of attrition

of life against testing odds,

Of pleasure, pain, sighs, moan,

The soft brace of a flower

and the divine shower

of smiles and tears 

also bears

the stamp of the unwritten laws,

Nothing'd exist without humane flaws,

The heavenly bliss

and peaceful kiss

prevailing in the vales

won't have any meaning without

the strife and humanity's travails,

Silent whispers in a forest

and the noisy outpours in a bazaar

share deep roots,

Life is impregnated in deep chambers

of silence and solitude

and the mystical beatitude

somewhere far away,

It's then let loose

to seek a higher meaning

in the congested, overbrimming,

cacophonic, struggling bazaar,

Life comes out of a deep cave

to brave 

all that blood, sweat, smile,

tears, love, guile

and hate

that berate

we humans,

We have to pass the test

and be our best

in the crowd

and then wear the shroud

of the eternal sleep

as undisturbed silence motherly creep

to take us deep 

again into the silent womb. 

Among the mountains

 Away from all guile,
where the stones smile,
And silence sings a song
to mountain wind's gong,

With disarming translucency the sunrays

seep into the stones' heart cold,

The eagle flying so bold,

A new reality hitherto untold,

Morose and weary,

and the soul all teary,

I walk on the stony path

with needle sharp memories

frozen in the mind,

like the glacial ice behind,

With a cunning discretion

they slowly creep

by inches over the years,

jarring the stones,

rubbing boulders and crags,

I want to escape

from all that breeds pain

for some soul's gain,

And the stony solitude

seems to feel my estrangement and platitude,

It embraces me,

Bares its secrets for me to see,

Furtively slide a few pebbles,

Dead grass breaks its drowsiness,

It sways

and prays,

With a resounding laughter,

the wind runs after

the stony peaks,

Bubbling and gurgling

a little stream from a glacier,

A huge boulder greets,

stifling a yawn,

in its clumsy, gruffy voice,

I just stand there,

My soul ready to bare

all pains and listlessness,

And looks at the icy summit

standing there like a peaceful hermit,

For comfort, solace and guidance.