The Magic Pull

[Guest guest]

Harsha's Eternal Spring

 

Once there was this mystery

set in the dense fog of life

nothing appeared clearly

and thorn bushes on all sides.

 

Being tired I stopped along the road

and lay down to rest my back a while

a pure spring gushed forth suddenly

wet the ground and made me smile.

 

Too many body aches to move

how with miseries we are wed

as hopes played their endless melodies

a welcome stillness led

once more to a forgotten place

and water dripped on my head.

For naked lovers with no rent to give

earth serves as the final bed

and peaceful sleep comes easily

to a tired, worn out heart.

 

That day upon awakening

even the air was wet

but no ceilings now

to keep out the light.

 

The building puddle

might have drowned me still

but I had had my fill

of sights and wonders

or so I thought when

by chance our eyes met.

 

A perfect face of such radiance

who can resist this innocence

and having given up everything,

it made no sense at all

to hold back just my heart.

 

The pull, this magic pull,

on my decaying orbit,

takes away the choice

of ever being untrue.

What voice can speak now

and say I loved

and lost myself in You

Then Saw that You were Me.

Silence stole us from ourselves

For all Eternity.

 

Harsha

[Guest guest]

Gee Harsha this is so lovely. The mood is poignant and serious at the

same time.

 

You get two atta boys and a rubber duck.

 

Love,

 

Victor

[Guest guest]

Harsha... The Magic Pull reminds me of the stories of Kabir, that

mysterious mystic: "The breath that does not repeat the name of God

is a wasted breath."

 

Thank you... Robert