i with I...

He usually doesn't prefer
to talk...
in the morning...
he the kid knows however
that He talks in the morning
but with Himself
and His God...
that's His preferred way...
He goes by Signs...

so...
when he the kid arrived
this morn
at His white mansion
against the backdrop of a blackish grey sky
and cold wind blowing
and thousands of birds chirping...
he knew there would be Silence...
('in Silence relazione con dio happens'- He the architect once told him...the kid)

he was amused to see His white car waiting
at the portico...
and He...
instead of sitting at His favored balcony
was at the wheels!
(is He going out? so early?
the kid thought...)

seeing him
He smiled
His usual benign one...
the smile with a lot of heart...

He him beckoned...
the kid
could never disobey Him
his master...
so he hopped in...

and He took him down the road...

a sleepy...semi dark one...
under the sky heavily overcast...
and a cold wind coming into play
inside...

He signaled him to look at the sky
simply by His eyes...
Those eyes that held Ocean of Love...Peace...
Agape...
Those eyes that never lost calm...
Those eyes that pierce through everything...
Those eyes that cast balm...

The kid looked out...
The sky...
Full of clouds...
Dark...grey...even white...
he the kid peered out...
To see more of the sky...
The middle looked dark...
The east had white floats...
The west was grey...
And some builds dotted with yellow lights stray
Made the sky look like...
(Look like what?
The kid thought...)
And suddenly he was reminded of his greenish days...
his boyish ones...
The football matches...
In rain...
Fields being filled by water...
he knew...
The kid...that he was glowing with the remembrances of the past...
he supreme innocence...
his joyful existence...
his friendship with stars...

The car stopped...
it was still dark...
But the kid could guess they were on a field...
with its vast green expanse...

The architect got down...
he got down...too...
Who could defy a Man like Him?

The architect sat...
On the grass...
Straight spine...
Cross legged...
Palms on knees rested...
the kid sat beside Him...
Silent...

Soon he felt his eyes were getting closed...
For the cool breeze had swept him
Into his everything it had coolness poured...
An ambrosia...
A Happy State...
A Trance...
A Death...

he the kid stayed...
The architect...
Sitting beside him
Was just looking at the sky...
And reciting...a sloka...
Something ...
That converged i with I...
Something like that...

And Love came
Flooding...
Agape...
In its overwhelming sense...
Love Only Love came...

The kid felt tears running his cheeks
Cool...
Like drops so blessed...
he envisioned faces...
Of his mother...
The first...
Then another with dotted umbrella..
Then another with a child...
Then another with godly eyes...
The kid felt getting goosebumps...
he thought he should cry more...
And he thought it would rain soon...
A heavy rain...
An inundation of Soul...
he thought he was lost...
he thought he was searching for a lap...
where he could just sleep off
Soft...
he thought he felt Him...
On his cool skin...
he thought he heard
God...
saying
'see? I have painted proper your Love
In divinity...
On the sky so monsoon smell...
On the grass so carpet soft...
In chirpings of million cuckoos...
In your bicycle runs...
In your essential being...
In your Port Alba dreams...
In your La radice deep...
In your vagabondish walks...
In your books and scribbles...
See?
I have painted your Love...'