To rise against Evil is to be one in a priestly disguise. Thus, to be whole is to allow the Evil in you settle in its Birth Land, the throne of the inner Dark Kingdom, and let the Evil in others unfolds as it may. Protest in the name of goodness is War, and true goodness is never oppressive, nor preachable.

To rise against Evil is to be one in a priestly disguise. Thus, to be whole is to allow the Evil in you settle in its Birth Land, the throne of the inner Dark Kingdom, and let the Evil in others be as it may. Protest in the name of goodness is War, and true goodness is never oppressive, nor preachable.

The Season of Lillies unfolds

Nurturing bees and caterpillars goldstone

The sun, a rose, symphonies, all across globes

Hovering and wandering: where King of kings lays feet?

Naively wonders, sewing seeds of wretched wisdom

’till every single penny on thyself, vainly gulped

For ye faint heart is but a fatal dart

#poetry

#transience

#decay

#birth

#seasons

#nature

#foolishness

#innocence

#bravery

...And here I am, once again, in the midst of a Misty River, lost, in the search of what is most intimate to me, myself, till’ I witnessed a fallen seed coming into being again, in the form of a tree, a plant, a new life, an unborn form, that was the meteor, flashing across a starry night, carrying the message, that I, was nowhere to be sought...I sat in deep silence, gazing far-off into the horizon, and undefined depths of the cosmos, I sat, I melted into everything that is, and when the bird’s tweaking echoes near, it dawned on, on what? That I, finally, was in no need to indulge in the hasty business, of seeking who I was, am and will be, because, Alas! the place that was sought, is the same as the one where I have always been.

#Poetry

#Streamofconsciousness

#Freeverse

...And here I am, once again, in the midst of a Misty River, lost, in the search of what is most intimate to me, myself, till’ I witnessed a fallen seed coming into being again, in the form of a tree, a plant, a new life, an unborn form, that was the meteor, flashing across a starry night, carrying the message, that I, was nowhere to be sought...I sat in deep silence, gazing far-off into the horizon, and undefined depths of the cosmos, I sat, I melted into everything that is, and when the bird’s tweaking echoes near, it dawned on, on what? That I, finally, was in no need to indulge in the hasty business, of seeking who I was, am and will be, because, Alas! the place that was sought, is the same as the one where I have always been.

#Poetry

#Streamofconsciousness

#Freeverse

If I and You, beyond any condition to our favor, because we favour, or disfavor, can come to live in good terms with our shortcomings and imperfections in a congenial spirit, the world would probably become a congenial place to share delightfully, because then, we would limit our judgments about imperfections to ourselves, instead of chasing a scapegoat endlessly, not realizing who the culprit is, and a cultivated world must begin with I, just as a beautiful garden must begin with a skilled farmer.

The Spring falls, the Sun rose, upwards, then downwards, into a newly born day that peeks at tomorrow, forever and ever, for what’s left of hope is merely a shudder that perceives the world, not through the eyes of an innocent, but of a foreseeing farmer, hoping for the mercy of rain to please and extinguish their blazing flame, hoping to gain, and belong not, hopefully to the side of the unlucky. I, think, that, what injustice I hold and fervour within my right, of the optimistic, who always manages to mould and reshape misfortune into fortune? Such men say, you always have to throw off negative thoughts, as a good wrestler throws off their opponent. I say, is that the way life has to be treated, to be played always on the side of the winner? Such style of life is like having an endlessly lit bulb that you are never willing to turn off, even during the night, when you sleep, and you end up wondering why your eyes could not see well into dark spaces, because you’re ever thinking that things will be okay, that you never let go of yourself into dark deserts and caves, without a compass, and seeing the thrill of living fully. Skydivers and free climbers know deeply the feeling of living because they have overcome the fear of dying, of being thrown off from a stupendous height into the river of death, and so are able to live to the utmost extent of their experiences, with its ups and downs, not keen on tomorrow but today, the current moment, the experience they’re having Now.

#Prose

#Streamofconsciousness

#Literature

#Writings