'this beautiful tranquil morn
i am again born
And am i not dying the same?
this beautiful tranquil morn...
Which carries flowery smell...
And so much of Hope
And so much of Faith...'
Thinking thus
he looked at the vast
A picture
The greatest painter was painting
Infront of him...
Through his mortal eyes...
And their immortal sense...
from where the light
Once entered into his being...
Some decades ago...
The first Light of the Day....
And the Light of the night too...
he looked at the picture...
Eternal...
And always on the flow...
Much like a journey
So fascinating...
Much like Love
That takes in all
And gives out all...
From fullness to fullness
How the picture him teaches
Everything stays...
A possibility so unchanging...
Infinite...
Yet so changing...
he looked at the way
His signs fell
On every thing...
And also coming back to him
Like signs of Hope more...
More of Light...
More of Love...
And he remembered Isabel...
A Rachel...
An ewe...
he remembered Durga...
The power incarnate...
he remembered the Virgin...
Mother Mary...
her eyes kept quiet on her child...
he remembered
Artemis...
he remembered
A green green pond...
he remembered
An algaic form...
he remembered
All...
And tears of joy...
They fell
Like giving him more joy...
he felt...
Love as primacy
Of being...
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