Genre: Philosophical
every moment a tiptoe sounds
I close my eyes to see
as I feel the page
as words take shape and form
my thoughts encircle the song
inside the circle of the dance
is it the dancer or the dance?
Ah! only my soul knows
Only my heart can see-
I close my eyes to look
up from the book
at the love of purity
which is but a scent sweet
I reach out to touch
Nothingness ‘
Ah The presence in Nothingness’
Love of Eternity ‘
Close…
closer than the thorn is to the rose
growing from dust
glowing in the dust
dust to dust we rose
engulfed spirits in time
destined together to repose…
arms spread out to receive
like the scattered petals
of the beloved rose…..
my eyes on the book I close
the dancer moved bent and rose….
life went on, life goes….
- *…
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