इस मोड़पे मैं क्या करूँ?
छोड़ दूँ तुम्हें या बाँध लूँ?
इस तन में तन्हा उधार है
आखिर जीवन से कैसे जुदा रहूँ?

Lotus

I feel you
in the depths
of my womb,
a stirring of new life,
soft contours of mud
dissolving into water,
bubbles rising up
and popping,
before they reach
the skin
of upturned green palms
holding the immensity
of the sky
in their bosom,
ripples leaving
without returning home,
as fire sits with fire,
burning away the dross,
and somewhere
in those murky silent depths,
a lotus blooms quietly,
turned on by her solitude,
parting her folds
with the gentlest touch
of the first morning sun.

What do I want?

'what do I want?'
I ask myself,
eyes perched
upon a horizon
which somehow retains
a caged sameness
everyday

surfaces and edges
that clamor tirelessly
to camouflage the aliveness
that draws me in,
an invitation
to stand
on the sacred stage,
where life meets life
naked
all the time,

where what I feel
sets aflame
my insides,
stoking something
unknowable
unspeakable
to foreign eyes,
and a white hot desire
to live
and die to
the adventure
that is,
this one life.

The Wave

and I hold myself
in the depths of who I am,
choosing to stay
in the midst of the swell,
to be the wave
who never reached the shore.

Fire and Ash

tend to the fire,
throw in the logs,
stoke the flames
of your deepest desire
that rages in the heart
of all the darkness -
soot-laden logs
who, in their burning away,
feed the light
and the warmth
of a fire,
that's learning
to feel itself,
as it rises
from the ashes
of a life half-lived.

Somethings Are Just Far Away

somethings are just
far away,
the heart-shaped cloud
pinned to an orange sky,
the salt of the sea
from the darkening edge,
the giggling of stars
at a midnight feast,
the ravishing half moon
strolling upon a gentle breeze;
somethings are just
far away,
so they can be owned
but not smothered,
touched but not possessed,
journeyed with
but not arrived at;
just so
in the distance
between the longing
and the cherished,
the blues
deepen and seep
into the far edges,
lost in the light
of a world
that cannot be
seen or touched,
but only lived. 
somethings are just
far away.....

Broken Eyes

and I wondered why
we draw our hearts
with tireless passion
upon the shifting sands,
where busy waves
prowl and hunt
with every passing tide,
and then I remembered
the lion and deer
who simply join each other
for a little dance
under the neon stars,
and suddenly
everything seemed
just perfect
through my broken eyes.

Canvas

dip into
the silent palette
where
all colours
are born;
dream of
the exquisite
emptiness
of magic
and serendipity;
and then
with a swish
and a nonchalant twirl
of your steady breath,
let your hands speak
the strokes
that dance
in your veins,
your cells,
your marrow;
when words
sketch the dreams
of a dancing
singing heart
who's learned
at last
to listen
to the call
of a changing cosmos.

The Water Wheel in the Desert

like an inexhaustible well
in a dessicated desert,
the wheel of desire
now turns endlessly
unto itself,
refreshing
a parched heart
rooted, and
devoted,
to the shifting sands
and the fickle wind,
with dreams
in every dried up vein,
who knows
that a time will come
when the wheels
will turn again,
and she will
receive and give
without holding back,
the water
from the heavens
that flow down,
to create an oasis
of love and forgiveness,
even in the silence
of a Sahara sensibility.

In Waiting...

the whole world
is in a hurry
wanting,
waiting,
to get somewhere,
to get something,
and fast.

but waiting
must happen
unhurried,
like losing yourself
in the mist
which will roll out
just like it rolled in,
in its own time.

like the pine cones
are set free
with the fall leaves,
upon the cool breeze
of an ominous winter,
waiting
is a ripening of desire
beyond your need
to bite into the fruit;

yes, you have worked hard,
survived many winters,
stood up strong
through many a fall,
the winds of change
have constantly eroded
your sense of self;

but waiting is not
about wallowing
in the frustration
of no harvests,
it is about finding
and loving
the hidden harvest
in the most treacherous
winter or drought;
garnering a patience
that is grounded
in the stillness of uncertainty,
and the stark reality
of discontent.

in waiting, there is
a slow and beautiful
coming together
of all seasons -
born from
a deep friendship
with the silence
and impeccable stillness
of an inner winter
and drought.

Passion

Passion is
a gurgling spring
on the brink,
ready to burst forth
and give of herself
to the whole of life.

Passion is a life-force -
the genesis of purpose,
the well spring of desire,
the undying flame
of hope and revival,
to thrive
in the sacred
web of life.

Passion is
to set yourself
and the world
on fire;
to breathe fire,
walk with fire,
through fire, and
into abundance.

Passion is love
on the edge
of being
made visible.

On Desire

When we hear the word 'desire', we usually think of 'kama' - the intense longing for a person, a thing, or a result. Most often than not, when we think of desire, we think of love, friendship, intimacy, sex, money, fame, success, etc. We also have been conditioned to look at 'desire' as something that needs to be given up or controlled, to evolve spiritually.

But desire is the root of all action that makes us human. Even in our spiritual growth, there is a seeking, a desire to get somewhere, somehow....what we call evolution. So then how can we give up desires? When it is the wheel that keeps us moving and changing? When it is the flame that keeps us alive and in the hunt?

I believe that true evolution happens only when you HOLD your desire without going out of your way to seek an end or a fulfillment, or without looking to repress it or wishing it away. It is about 'surrendering' to your desire and life. It is about holding it inside you like a sacred flame, shielding it from the things that would put it out, and from the things that would fan it so that it exhausts or burns itself out. It is about the middle path. It is not about giving up or giving in. It is about living and being with it. So hold it, burn with it slowly, let it burn you slowly... sit with the pain of not being able to seek fulfillment, sit with the helplessness of not being able to do anything about it, surrender to the fire of desire, be consumed by it....there is nothing more one can really do.

For when you choose to do something, you are becoming a victim of desire. You either want to be in denial. Or you want to take charge and control your life by going all out to fulfill your desire. Embrace it and walk with it, holding it like a dear friend, who is there with you every step of the way. That is the way. The only way home, is what I feel.

Desires

Desires
rise and fall -
boundless waves
seeking
an elusive shore;

Dropping
like  pennies
into a slot
for safe-keeping.

Collect. Remember.
Cherish. Own.

Desires
drive us
on our journey
within.

The Mirage

the raging sun
burns on
inside,
outside,
taut skin,
singed,
curls up
like parchment;
something's got to give.
blurry eyes
dance
on the horizon
that never arrives,
the eternal mirage
of a seeker
in desert sands;
the sun rages on
to keep him alive
inside.

An Offering

when you hold water
in your cupped hands,
can you be so still
that you're neither
holding on or letting go?
and in that moment
of frozen thoughts,
when the desire to drink
and the desire to give,
when the fear to hold on
and the fear to let live,
empty into each other,
an offering is made
unto oneself;
there's no longer a need
to give or receive,
to seek or be sought,
only a bliss - to live, love,
and be, naught!
 

Desire and Destiny

desires
are pearls
that are opened
every moment,
strung together
on a fragile thread
of surrender
to the present -
when you hold
yourself
with love and faith,
you live your destiny
as each pearl,
strung with grace.