சிலநேரம் பை மாறும்,
பொருட்கள் புதுப்பை சேரும்.
சிலநேரம் பொருட்கள் மாறும்,
பையோடு வேறு உறவுகள் கூடும்.

உடலா, உலகா இந்தப் பை?
உயிரா, உணர்வா உள்ளிருப்பது?
கடலில் உப்பைக் கரைத்து,
கடல்வற்றி உப்பைப் பிரித்து...

என் அடையாளம் என்ன சொல்?
இருக்கின்ற பையா? அதன் பெயரா?
உள்ளிருக்கும் பொருளா?
அதன் குணமா?
பையும் பொருளும் அறியாத...
காற்றா? காலமா?

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I write along to right along.

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A writer creates whole new worlds in words.

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Restless rest.
Hurting calm.
Tiring inactivity.
Sometimes better than result.

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Material



Spiritual

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Things



Wings

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Things




People

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Where lasting impressions are recorded.
Experiences and reactions are journaled.
Body and mind travels are noted with pictures.
To read, feel again and learn,
But the past cannot be edited.
The present page keeps filling,
Good, careful writing is merited.

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I have my thoughts and memories.
My mind hasd roamed over hills and dell,
And hence there are stories to tell.

Even if I am in difficulties,
I have my thinking faculties,
My mind has seen water go dry and swell,
And hence there are stories to tell.

Even if I am defeated and sad,
Some good lessons I have had.
My mind has risen to God, fallen in hell,
And hence there are stories to tell.

My mind can talk to my pen, or talk with it,
To the World and God and the angels that flit,
I can just write, but talk not vey well,
And hence there are stories to tell.

The world can bother me, or leave me alone,
I keep on compose verses to my soul's tone,
My mind has seen the Source for a spell,
And hence there are stories to tell.

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Service without payment, love without bondage, vision is the Universe, identity is just the Soul.

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