being permeable...

'attain permeability...'
the old man told him
sitting crosslegged on the balcony
facing the eastern sky
which had not yet turned light...

he also sat a few hands away...
crosslegged too...
and the breeze from the blue
was so strong that he felt
he could live with this breeze
for seven centuries long...

the air was patiently nice
full of only chirpings of birds...
and no other distinguishing noise...

'be the most permeable...'
the old architect suggested
not removing his gaze from the sky...
turning light...slow...silent...

he thought he should ask Him questions
but he felt lethargic...
the breeze and the chirpings had done magic
on his all queries...
he felt he had nothing to ask...
whatever already pouring in soft
pouring like incessant drops
of Life
had already made him happy inside...

and with this calm happy void
came the angel of Peace...
dressed in white...
a flowing gown...
her hair was braided and long...
on her head...slightly left
she had worn
a flower white...
and her face had peace and love so bright
that he felt he would cry...
any moment ...

and he was...
soon...
he was having a flood of tears...
within a stream of happiness
erupted into a peaceful burst...
he by his head touched the marble
of the balcony at room sixty four...

sitting quiet...guided by the old millionaire...
and having a perfect vision of her
the angel of peace...
he touched the cool of the breeze
and the marble white
and the distant sky
and he thought
he had turned permeable...
surely...
if not the most
like the old
architect...
still...
he from solidity
had trangressed...
towards permeability...

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