The eyes opened
As always from darkness
to light
Words come and go
About some relations, about some imaginations
I have no idea
I have no intent
This is drunken'ness'
Never a sober bird
This heart that sings the song of a quiet
I listen to this laughter
A laughter of no limits
Just like a life
That is never over.
The eyes never prepare for
any moment to come.
The separation is an idea.
What can ever be sad, the birth or the death?
There was a story once told to me,
There was a wise man,
A righteous man,
Who was once told by his master,
Your last thought determines
Your next life.
He spent the rest of his life
Controlling his thoughts
As to be in control of his thoughts when
He took his last breath.
When the time came,
All his sadhana deserted him,
And he only thought
He died sad.
The wise man died thinking sad,
The wise man lived contemplating.
What can ever be sad, the birth or the death?
This one is no movement
It has been still forever now
A kiss that has now been
forever now.
Love your ink.
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