If I canst,

If I canst sing thee,
O morn, what is the meaning of poetry?
If I canst dissolve my self
To praise dew laden heart thine,
What is the meaning of praying for intervention divine?
If I canst take
A path towards purgatory,
What is meaning of singing life's stories?
If I canst get merged
With the pictures and images that thou cause as surge,
What is the meaning of my search?

If I canst take thy name,
If I canst learn to live with windows of mind opened,
What can I sing or write?
What can help me to meet thy delight?
What can inspire me to live bemused?
What can take me to Your Day Break, Your Deluge?

So take my words
As freewill offering of my heart,
At feet thine,
O the poetic morn,
O the everflowing light.

If my words take a form of a prayer,

If my words take
A form of a prayer,
It is so turned by thee,
For I know not
What other ways could there be,
To hold the rise of a kind of poetry,
If my words perchance take
A form of a song, hymn like,
Don't take them as mere flattery,
For I know not
What other ways could there be,
To hold the rise of a kind of poetry.

Keep Your Bless,

Keep Your Bless,
And nothing more I pray,
Just keep Your bless
So that I at the end of a day,
Garner strength enough
To sit and pray,

Keep Your Bless
And nothing more I pray,
So that at the end of a day,
I live to sing thy name
And be blessed.

I am going to make you dream,

i am going to make you a dream,
    i am gonna make you a painted country scene,
       
                                                         ~ 
               i am going to make you a sea,
                    i am gonna make you a humming bee,
                                   
                                                              ~
                               i am going to make you the sky
                                   i am gonna make you with peace fly,
                                                               ~
                                              i am going to make you a festivity,
                                                             i am gonna make you feel divine satiety,
                                                                             ~
                            
                                                           
                                                                  Just with me sing,
                                                                           Just with me, give in
                                                                                       To life.
      
                                                                               

Get swayed,

Get swayed,
With me to take to the waves,blue and white,
Get swayed
With me to take to the morning's rising tide,
Get swayed,
As a flower gets bent by the happy wind,
Get swayed,
To wake up to the chants of  solemn hymns,
Get swayed,
To feel the fragrant mist of the natural green,
Get swayed,
To make a life filled with pastoral scenes,
Get swayed,
To feel how birds throat their unpremeditated songs,
Get swayed,
With me to embrace life's journeys short and long.

When thou hast put gladness, in my heart,

When thou hast put gladness in my heart,
I can only see the world in colors of winter clad,
Colors I see in faces young,
Colors sprout in petals of a flowery song,
Colors arrive through the dewy mist,
Colors paint dreams on foggy streets,

When thou hast put thy gladness in my heart,
I see how with colors a morn breaks out.

My lips shall utter forever thy praise,

My lips shall utter
Forever thy praise,
My words shall flow
Forever to spread
Thy name,
O the Nameless,
For thou hath sown
A vast vineyard in me,
For thou hath me blown
To the farthest of the lands,
To the deepest of the seas,
My lips shall utter
Forever thy name,
My tongue will praise
Forever thy grace,
O the Nameless,
For thou hath caused
Me to know life,
For thou hath made me
Thy writes.

A few lines on the boy by the river,

It is so pleasant to see you boy,
Sitting restive on a greenish slope,
Through your eyes I could see
How that river shrunken flowed,
And how those bushes and shrubs,
Held white white wild flowers,nameless,
How that tree for ages stood,

like a woman with a peaceful grace,

And that few men I could see,

Pulling and rowing through sands their little boat,

Through your eyes I could see
How dreams in the afternoon air float,
How nature as a perfect refuge
Could cause one like even you,
To sit there enjoying an afternoon
Of a blissful pleasing solitude.

  (Note: on a painting by Paul Gauguin, 1888, as below)

With a heart as one takes,

With a heart as one takes
The birth of life as in mist dressed,
One sees birth of poems too,
One sees life with a poetic view,
And words like waters pour'st lines,
And words like art cause times
To flow forever, eternalised.

If there is a sky, and if there is the road of life,

If there is the sky above,
And the road of life below to take,
One can only got rhymes to bathe,
One can only got a life to make,

If there is the Sunshine bright,
And joys of going through the passage of light,
One can only feel the breeze,
Blowing into one's soul never ceased,

If there is the bless of poesy,
And sights of so many blooming daisies,
One can only combine everything
To make a life full of meaning,

And nothing there is no more unsavoury,
Nothing there is no more unpleasant,
For the road of life has got all the presents,
For the sky above with festivity upon one  descends.

Let me tell you something,

Let me tell you something,
As I am told by the golden sunbeams
Of the morning with a fancyful screen,
I am a plant of thine dream,

Let me tell you something,
I am the part of your unimaginable dream,
And I die oft by your sadness true,
But I rise like a morn of Your dazzling dews,
I reside in thy happiness unbound,
I live where thou keep me bound,
I go to the limit of life that thou sketch,
From the sky I clouds of Heaven for you fetch,

Let me tell you something,
I am a part of your undying dream,
I am the scriptures that thou recite,
I am your scattering light,
For thou hath blessed me with thy delight.

A hymn to an Inspiration of a write,

I think I care not
If You reside here or out of this world,
As long as Thou carry shine in eyes,
As long as I have the propulsion to write,
Thou art the search of my sublime,

I think I ponder not
What proses are there wrought
In the roads full of noises and din,
As long as I have the willingness keen,
To fill my pages with ink,
Thou art my ocean to sink,

I think I have no wish
To know exact what glories make the Sun,
As long as the golden rays fall on thine hair,
As long as thou drape me with a dreamy layer,
Thou art my search for the Beauty divine.

Is it not good to see people happy?

Is it not good to see
People so so happy?
Full of vivacity?
Full of fun?
As if they all are carrying the Warm Sun
On their shoulders?
Ain't it gives back joy and love?
To see people so full of mirth?
Celebrating life
As a gift?
Ain't it good to see life in kids?
As they jump, laugh, and cry aloud?
Is it not good to see people getting to the cloud
Almost reaching there? Without
All those things that usually keep them down?

Have you heard those angels?

Have you heard ever those angels?
Like creatures of God?
Have you ever heard them ?

No?

Well I hear them,
Oft, when You tell upon
Me.

Lets invade the world with Love,

If we may,
We invade,
Come,
We just invade the world with Love,
And paint rosy red on all cheeks,
Come we make poems our weapons,
And drop them rampant, as bombs,
On parliaments and houses which look like tombs,
Come, lets invade all dumb poker faced,
Men women sullen,
Walking like deadbodies,
Come we shake them up,
Jar them to senses,
Make them make out themselves,

Come, whoever, wherever you are,
Lets join the invasion,
Lets plunge all cities, towns, stations,
Lets invade all those losing hearts,
Lets make them stand up, joyous,
Lets light them up, to make them sing,
Lets ignite them, to become what they are to be.

Marionette,

I think I am a marionette,
Attached by different strings,
To Your fingers,
And as You move them,
I dance and swing,
Sometimes
I hold a guitar too,
And if You sing,
I just lend a voice,
Sometimes,
I hold poems,
And whence You give them tunes,
They become songs,

Afterall I am a marionette
Attached by different strings
To Thou.

Come lets consume the joys of a twilight,

Come My Heart,
Lets consume the twilight
Singing the birth of wintry mist,
Come lets be blessed and never be missed,

Come My Heart,
Lets drink a cup of sunset orange warm,
Holding in us an oceanic form,
Come lets be blessed and full of bliss.

What is there in this world left?

What is there, tell me, left
In this world, other than dreams and hopes?
What is there, tell me, kept
In this world, other than green valleys, with flowered slopes?
What is there, tell me, to sing
other than the Holy Parchments that thou for all bring?

What is, tell me, the only way
To be  forever gliding the windy way?
To be in the rightest spirit to embrace and begin a day?
Other than singing thou, drenched by thine golden rays?

How could thou color the sky thus?

How could thou color the sky thus?
How could thou make a morn such?
So silent, so orangy pink, by light painted?
How could thou make the air so scented?
How could thou make those birds to unfurl wings?
How could thou with serenity bless a poem to sing?
Why thou make me to gather dews and mist spread
On the sky so told upon, so written, so said?

Because my soul followeth hard after thee,

Because my soul followeth hard after thee,
Even on a street looking a halogenic foggy sea,
I could find shore where could me be safe,
Could I arrive in there carried by thine waves.