Strange threads

Even when things are pretty black & white, I tend to live her time through thoughts & imaginations. The feeling is strange as it strengthens the concept of 'lost love of divinity'. If the lonliness of soul is for real, then the various 'wells of life' deserves respect in the name of the Absolute.

Your life through my spark

Imagination surmounts the real life winds
The past stabs the present in future spots
The sun burns the stars; the thought digs the love
Among the fight of real, unreal & Self; I die
Every moment, every smile & every known breath
I live there in my time, I spread here for your space
Hooked to the clueless bonds, I wonder the precious song
In loving melodies & meloncholy screams of lonely soul
The divine, perhaps, is at work; the devil may be in action
But Truth seems nearer; Oh! It exists in a different world

When I hear " Thank You"

She thanked me. I was hurt. The intimate smiles & the depth of trust were estranged with these two words. When the prof. started teaching......

Say it with no sound

The world of thanks holds many worlds
And floating thoughts & gestures among the Gods
A thanks kills my ego; it breeds crack in love
Sounds of humility burns trustful leaves
As the credit of love splits into loans of altruism
Thin line of identity marks the end of absolute

Alas! we accept the truth of our lonely relative world