Re writing C Bobin in vain.

I place both my hands in your emptiness
pushing them a little bit further.

Tingling,
as i touch to grasp what is within you.
Behind closed walls of solitude where the magic of your being awakens
In the most discreet silence.

i touch what is absent in the books.
i touch what has been absent in you for so long.
i touch the laughter of your childhood
Of a time when eternity and you met life with the same bewildering eyes.

A frivolous shadow of dangling branches, the movement of the winds, the drops of rain,

the white feather in the snow,
Waiting
for your childhood to come along
to pick them up in a casket of souvenirs.

i now touch this particular moment
when joy came through the holed roof in the barn
to join the red in your blood.

Light falls on haystacks
poems giggles
in your
glittering eyes.



The bright golden particles of dust floats
unwinding
like threads from the lustrous dress of an tiptoeing Angel
thats your childhood the adult in you cannot see now.

What can the unmystified adult,
in a reductionist world of explainations
convince.
what your carefree childhood heard from the mornings....???

Can they understand the silver traces in the deep blue skies
pouring sweetly where my hands touches yours.

My hand touches yours where the sun strolls
leaving the simplicities of life
the beautiful inner metaphors of your Soul.

We dont need to talk so much
Hugging your silence
I hear enough
The perfect word elevates if i listen

By understanding your silences
I have understood the whispers of this universe.

Sweet september the sunshine this afternoon is so gentle.
Gently falling on my dark brown skin. 

I feel it playing all over me.

Warm ripples. The very same breeze ,
very light on the leaves ,
lightly moves inbetween my nakedness and my orange clothes. 

pleasantly
i witness this well being
so graciously offered by nature.

That i could lay all afternoon beneath the soothing branches of the pinetrees.

And in a perfect pindrop --the quietness

The language and sensations are one.

i have stepped out of your mind ,i  ve step into Gods mind.

Everything poetic enters the state of my consciousness..sweeping me into self contained quietness.

And-- i would barely move from here, but pursue to listen the quiet thrust of life. 

Thudding.

Its almost sensual in its oneness.

The loins of the earth and mine are one.

I expérience a feeling of wakefulness.

When the spirit and the body entwines each other spontaneously and deeply , the streams of consciousness carries you to the very source where life throbs.

 You throb to the very throb of the universe , and you can feel the stars breathing on your face. 

The sun and moon sinks into your pupils and stays there....

as you look around you, its not you who look through the bliss of this solitude, 

but the sun, and the moon ....

in ignition, 

attentive enough to unscathingly illuminate as if 

the lamps of meditation expels the noises of thoughts.

You arrive like a love letter from some heaven
Smiling.

Colours flow through an autumn sky.

Now splendiferous
but also full of dying.



Around me
each leaf is in its buddhahood bowing
diffusing
mauve and yellow murmurs of goodbyes
Like a monk i m aware
of the air in my nostrils permeating towards a well being.



But
if only you knew
the warmth i find
in the bread i eat,

its simple joys and sadness.
regulates my life



i hear you
Your quickly articulates words
dispersing.

My eyes are absorbed
on our brief walk along the river banks
with so much unsaid.
While you continue to tell me
Laughter and Silence
has more than 26 alphabets.


The vast sky and its breathless poems
some spill on your face.

Whatever it touches-it makes it alive.

There is a light that
million suns cannot give

it comes and sits
in the silence of meditation.

Where ever it cast its eyes
-everything blossoms.

It has no eyes ,yet it sees everything.

it has no feet ,yet it moves everywhere.

what you and me call light
- is only its shadow.

I love you with the breathtaking beauty of your mountains.
I smell the fragrance of the woods and streams.
I feel the pleasant touch of sun light as if your skin was a tree full of tender leaves.

How long has it been
Since someone has told you
things
as beautiful
as the light
of the dawn.

And for a moment
your heart stood
still in it's silence.

As if
something kept in the dark
woke from the light years of oblivion Just from its bare touch.

This is how
one feels every time Love speaks.