All That Is Me

Floating in the vacuum where there is not a sound

Letting all lose, nothing shall make me bound

I am my own master, I am the slave

I gather my angels, while I dig my own grave

The devil rocks beside me in the chair

While I laugh with vituperation, I stare

The angel sits next to my soul

I am born, every moment, I die as a whole

I release my breath, the wisps of air

I scoff at the time that runs in despair

I shoot the eagles that fly often too high

I bend and touch the ground, beneath which I will lie

I throw the diamonds, I melt the gold

I become my own as I manifold

I trance to the levels that I knew long ago

Layers beneath my skin follow the flow

I am but not, I am a serene spirit

Stiff in the moment yet I get a drift

Pushed by the seconds, the ticks of the clock

Sway as I stay ahead of the moron flock

Catch me if you may

If you dare to touch my fire

Smoke I am, uplifted by desire

Parted by ways and born with benign

Yet devil in my left eye and right without a vision

Shadows of the stars hollow their dust in me

Ah! Pixels of love I am and all that I will be

I speak a different Language

I don’t speak the language of the world. I have difficulty in picking it up and conveying it.  

Though I do express through my writings and poetry but no longer get the feel with some 

random alphabets arranged in an order that is supposed to make sense.

I understand the language of universe and expressing it in myriad ways, through gratitude, 

politeness, kindness, a smiling face, a happy gesture, an honest truth, a gentle forgiveness 

and so many other ways makes life so simple.

 I try to be myself but change into a mirror when a person comes before me, so as to blend 

with the world, with him or her.  But that is not me that is what they want to see me as. I am 

unique like they are in their own worlds. Only I know me, how I am different inside and 

outside. How I feel the presence of someone guiding me right, just so perfectly right. That 

guide also is me. Not a dual-personality syndrome, else everyone has one. Everyone has 

their guide inside them, mine doesn’t talk to me. It makes me feel. It makes me feel happy, 

sad, angry, glad, contented, proud, jealous, guilty, careful, cautious, and fearful also but only 

sometimes. It also speaks the same language, the one that is not spoken. I know it is pure 

and truthful because it knows me. 

 It is Me. And it speaks one language which we all get without words - love.

I see serenity, blue waters, clear as crystals, so transparent that I can see its bed. I forget 

everything, jump in the water and let my body float. My shadow forms on its bed. The sun 

softly closes my eyes and I relax drowned in my originality. 

When the night falls I lay on the green grass, somewhere on high meadows. I open my eyes 

 to the twinkling of millions of stars, blessing me with their power and light. I feel my origins 

happening long back like one of those in the sky right now and simultaneously I sense 

my tears reaching the brim of my eyes and passing over in the honour of the wonders I am 

able to see through them, by them. So mystical yet so simple, thinking so, my heart fills with 

the joy of realisation of the truth, My Truth. I offer my gratitude in the form of my ‘living’, well. 

image credit:Hubble, NASA

                                                                                                     

                                       'The Furnace' Burns Within Me

How the language of Universe guides You Right: I am Change