The glass window

The glass window opens up
in front of your feet,
Like a narrow pathway
to all undiscovered places
Your heart is waiting for; in your dreams.
Slowly as the night begins
Sweet darkness covers your eyes
As you sank in fear, your dreams change
Into the patience of trees’ leafs
To meet the next spring.
The voice of rain
Outside of your boundaries
Embraces your feelings, longings;
Hope, like a thunder light moves out of clouds
To reach out for friendship of stars.

Life strangely seems far,
only darkness keeps you close
Between cold walls .
Once, long ago
A blind man spoke of the vast distance
Between darkness and ever unchanged light
To meet and merge
In midpoint;
For him to gain his true sight back.
You know
Something dies, ends
every day in you
you ask yourself, what keeps you going
who will set you free,
who save you from the cage you live in
but your heart knows,
all walls are hollow,
built skillfully on air of thoughts.

Small birds could make a living
From the strength of their wings,
Wandering winds dance
To give life; to empty space of tomorrows.
As you lay your shadow
on the stone of your dreams
faith divides the land of your future
piece by piece
between an oak tree
and a voice of rain.

In you,
A spiral shapes upward
Finally, in the mirror of the world
You meet your fears
The most frightened parts
Out of the throat of time
Speak to you;
The hurtful sword cut
Slow and Slandered through your flesh
Your feelings sink in the web of time,
After great many screams
Silence surrenders you
Deep, alone, still
Like an oak tree stands on a her ground;
And a new night begins after many storms.

In the dark, light repeats itself
Like a slow chant
Greet your soul
All things have disappeared
In you.
You recognize the sky
And the freedom in your vascular veins
To move away from your roots
Into the distant vastness behind the clouds
Only bird knows; how far is from one gate of sky to the next
And only you could choose how to live your freedom;
How to hear your heart beats;
The voice of soul.

The great wheel moves in cycles
Birds, stones, trees and stars
Live on winds
They have no walls
No hope, no dreams;
And yet their beauty speaks.

~ Serena Devi, August 2012 ~

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s