Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Stillness that alone count's

The sagaciousness in the sun shine
streaming through the waltzing willows
leaves the meandering percipience
dwell in the surreality of the cast shadows,

As the glistening leaves twirl and flit
painting the azure halcyon sky
with their gushing fluttery thrill's,
as one that is made of pellucid joy
and one that is all about
not being mellow and coy,
I walk in commune with the trunks
in silence
that's closer to the roots
that's closer to the soil,
I walk on the carpet of sward
in exalted awe
over the suffused glitz,
as presented by the play of
the swooning breeze ,
as presented by the play of
the swooning breeze,
the light's, the shadows and the leaves
which is of an unknown ease.

An ease that is even beyond the summons
of the tranquil will
favors only everything about the mind that is in raptures
like the wind playing with quill
caressing enduing and aligning it
with the far corner's that's moored
to the deep sweltering innate esurience
only to make them all pronounce
their vevre to flow as lucid
as the sounds in waffling rhythm
that make's a beautiful music,

lilting away the ignorance
of that not as yet knows to see the "monde"
as new as that it is,
in the stillness that's abound
and in the stillness that which alone counts.


Prasanna Kumar 
Cogito ergo sum ......

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