The walk downstairs
..........................................................the way ahead.

The mind drifted away
In a chaos of its own
From being the dictator
To being the clown

It had been seized
By a natural force
Which was repelled by everyone
Yet within was the source.

It climbed on a roof
To sing the songs of joy
For it was blind
To the world’s ploy

It wanted to be aloof
And yet be in a state
Of the awe and bliss
That were its bait

It sew all the threads
Of memories in one
To make a shield
Against the sun.

The shield was colorful
Yet colorless was the barrier
For the colors were invisible
In the absence of the carrier.

It now understood
How memories fade away
When the colors pour
All along the way

It began to cheer
For all those were near
As life taught it a lesson
That it had to rear.



Its not pride
Nor is it the stride
Its not Glory
Not even the journey

Its not beauty
Not even the duty
It is not the joy
Not even the ploy

It is the most simplest form
The speech that binds us together
The speech of the senses
That churns the world in every weather.

One who hears the dreams
One who sees the rhythms
He is the gifted soul
For enlightenment he fathoms.