Aghori 2

deep in my heart
the dhuni burns
rising smoke makes
dancing patterns
myriad shapes
forming dissolving 
forming again
spellbound I watch
while the wind
blows ashes
somewhere
in the shadows
the Aghori laughs

229

Aghori 1

deep in my heart

the Aghori stirs

for long he has waited

by the blaze of his dhuni

eternally awake

eternally watchful

with the abiding patience

of one who knows

the hoax of time

embedded in the white

of his ash covered face

I see his eyes

pools of darkness

and in their depths

something glows

that tells me

the time has come

to rip off  masks

one by one

that I have to bear now

agony of facelessness

to order to move on

to the ecstasy

of freedom beyond

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aghori
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dhuni

228

Wordless3

I've lost those poems 
I made of words
tied up in strings 
of grammatical rules
hammered in
with nails 
of punctuation

my poem now dances
in my heart
mingles with song 

of my rushing blood

with the sweetest agony
words cannot hold
it makes me smile
with eyes that flood

227

Wordless2

when darkness fell
my muse fled
my words were lost
in shadow lanes
I wander now
bewildered, bereft
in search of that
consecrated ground
in hope of that
one last refuge
of lips silenced
in wordlessness

226

Wordless1

she fancied herself
a poet
purveyor of fine words
but when she heard
the mountain stream's 
song of gushing molten ice
her tears spoke
her words fell
by the wayside
vanquished

225

Journey's End

no compass
no lodestar
no boatman 
I need 
to find my way ashore
drowning in deep
waters of my heart
I'll meet my journey's end

224

Sanctuary

no compass
no lodestar
no boatman 
I need 
to find my way ashore
drowning in deep
waters of my heart
I'll meet my journey's end

224

Earth, She Is A Woman

She carries deserts
on her body
and stores within 
reservoirs of fresh water,
thirst-quenching coolness.
Molten fire churns her core
and above 
oceans of astounding depths
mirror the sky in calmness,
sometimes, only sometimes
brewing savage storms
of primal force.
Her fingers hold
green wildernesses
softly tending
budding, growing, dying life.
Flowing with the waxing
waning moon
she knows of love and letting go.
Every moment, changing seasons
yet nurturing roots,
Earth.
She is a woman.

~ Rwits

222

Desert and Ocean

desert within
desert without
and somewhere
an ocean
of salt water
trembles

221

Wounds

Coax them out 
with gentle words
from hiding places
and then hold
scarlet faces to your lips.
Listen well
to faltering
chronicles of pain.
Wounds are magic.
through them flow
torrents of ecstatic love

220

Earth And Love

in parchedness
or in plenitude
earth knows
of love.
she does not lose heart
when clouds pass by
for she knows the love
that pours from sky
is born
from the swirling depths
of her own oceans

219