The gift

Now I know

If I ever knew

the journey of Buda

the precious gift of being

in the wonder and horror

of the threshold

being the witness of

light and darkness

the despair and the verge

of a physical farewell

being non-dual

not in a place, not in the so-called time

We have a notion and that’s nothing

Our souls are mere specks in space

with open arms to the Source

yet

we’re not humble

we’re drowned in the forged greatness

and supremacy

but now I’m aware

I’m another dot that shapes the hollowness

Sleep

​Sleep

My dearest starchild

Don’t look at my teary eyes

Stay just stay

Inside my burning chest

Sleep

In your cosmic cradle

Don’t feel me in this dreary site

Smile just smile

At the pink moonlight

Dream of the odds

Dance among sparks

But please don’t look at my heart

Sleep

In your singular world

Ride just ride

Across the far-flung space

But don’t look back

At my earthy self

Let me be the humble lighthouse

in awe of your trascendence

Blurred words

​Blurred words

Blown away

Could have written an indigo poem, but

Forgotten at dawn

Like a Polaroid

In tears, though

Was it my fear

Pictured in a wall?

Where are my headphones?

There is no tone, nor sighs

Where is my head?

There is nowhere

Me, there

All there is

That strange state

An unsent letter

A rough pass

To the gate of madness

A misty glass

Cloaked in uneasiness

I’m always imagining

A beloved soul

A whimsical song 

And drifting in

The ocean at dawn

That strange state

Of longing the unknown

A mystical path

To the gate of inner love

Waves

Hear this sound

Feel

Your feet on the ground

The air

The grass

The earth

Running slowly in your veins

The eyes

The hands

The heart

Burning slowly in this hearth

A spell no needed

An adventurous whisper

Silently bursting

Secretly meeting

In this place, like blending waves