spiral

and in the sullen darkness of a warm night she looks upto her lil piece of the sky... or at least the one she calls her own... she stares into the colors of midnight long enough to see stars beyond the infinite...

there is an unrest... there is no song she's hanging onto... there is no tune she's humming... there's just a swirl in her head refusing to settle...

and there is but one image embedded deeply in her mind's eye that keeps on playing... her lil piece of the mountain with a huge black scar used like a scribble pad... it's almost replaced the flame she would see each time she would close her eyes...

"and the wheel's just keep on turning

while the drummer begins to drum.."

borderline moksha

her eyes reach out for the blue sky.... all she manages to see are small pieces between buildings and from her window is visible the concrete zoo...

she reckons she'll take time coming back to civilization... meanwhile she closes her eyes to curl up in the warmth of the days she spent wandering the cold deserts...

she knows something changed inside her.. (did everything?).. she's been walking through the days in a semi trance feeling numbed the complications of civilization and the fabric of society... she waits for the silences to takeover and a canvas she can let it out on...

~ hari om.