in the sanctuary
of inner silence,

the geometry of hills,
the unbroken sweep of earth,
the rolling vault of sky,

i ask for nothing,
and receive everything.



after a day like yesterday
what other day could be the same?

i have places to go
people to see
things to do

so many details and intricacies

but i sit here
and wait for you
to wake up

so you can press your lips
to my temple and tell me

‘good morning, princess’



in this labyrinthine world, i am…

no longer
the passive observer
the submissive sideliner

no longer
the one who sits
and watches silently



because i want to.
and because no one can tell me i can’t.



the first mindful serendipity...

a machine whirs
in the cotton-fleeced sky

a mockingbird sings
on a naked shrub

spring sprouts teasingly
one leaf at a time



what joy it is to be distracted… not by the past, not by the future, but by the present… by the here and now! we spend so much effort trying to understand the whats and whys and hows of what was, and even more effort trying to predict the how-tos of what will be. and slowly our present becomes our past, and we cry over what we did not live, did not do, did not have… wasting even more present life on searching for something that will never be found.

how confounding… how confounded we are!



i crave for happy endings.
i always have.

but today
i give up the rules
of the game.

i abandon
the happy ending
(and also the sad one)
for once and for all.

i tell myself
i will not laugh
unless the laughing be spontaneous,
i will not cry
unless the tears be real.

you smile at me
from where you sit.

i find this chain of tension,
this ‘what are the rules?
what must i do?’
is broken.

you look at me
as if reading my thoughts,
you say
as if stealing my words,

you are so beautiful
when you smile.



how beautiful the night,
all at once!

how beautiful the quiet
that comes with it!

and how serendipitous
the realization…

it is only in the everyday
and ordinary
that the deepest joys
are illuminated!



she said,
i am a fossil, and you have unearthed me.
i am inside your hands, between your fingers,
bleeding my spirit into your palms.
i’ve told you enough about myself
for you to figure out the rest of me.

she said,
i’m afraid of being alone with you.
i can’t hide it. it’s naked.
i’m . . . naked.

she said,
you know me.
and now, i am forgettable.

i said,
what makes you pass
such a terrible judgment
upon yourself?

she said,
you say 'terrible.' yes!
there is nothing more formidable,
there is nothing more unforgettable,
than what is hidden, what is unknown.