inspiration, philosophy, poetry

Something Still Remains…

A lack, a loss,
A pain, a suffering,
A broken dream,
An unfulfilled desire,
A longing of eons,
A want of ages,
All make us feel,
Life is over.
But the truth is,
A lack makes space,
For something else,
To fill in.
A loss gives a chance,
To gain wisdom.
A pain makes one accept,
That life is not all roses,
Some thorns are needed,
To make the journey worthwhile.
The suffering is a stage,
Which transforms one,
To unveil the light,
Of the inner self.
A broken dream,
Inspires to dream again.
An unfullied desire,
Keeps the fire alive,
To keep going and achieving.
A longing of eons,
Makes one realise,
The value of a moment.
A want of ages,
Makes one understand,
The fleeting nature of things.
And one comes to a conclusion,
Behind this lack,
Behind this loss,
Behind this pain,
Behind this suffering,
Behind this broken dream,
Behind this unfufilled desire,
Behind this longing of eons,
Behind this want of ages,
Something still remains.

life: learning : truth

poetry, Soulful

Flashes of Future

A deep breath of tranquility,
And a connect with the radiance,
Of the divine cosmic power,
Surges a current of revalations,
In the subconscious paths,
Of the mental terrain,
And channelizes the energy,
From chaos to coherence.
And the inner eye views,
Flashes of the future,
Of amor and nuptial ties,
Glimpes of which bring balminess,
To the restless soul.
Reuniting with the one,
After many lifetimes,
Seems like a karmic play,
Coming to a finale,

With the inclusion,
Of oneself with the beloved,
Beyond time and space,
Like an eternal flame,
Burning perpetually for eons,
Traversing light years,
Across galaxies and the cosmos.

déjà vu : soulmate : eternity

inspiration, poetry

Being Alive

Love is all we need. Love can provide the warmth in the biting cold of Oslo winter too. It’s time to live that love and become truly alive.

Like confetti I shine with the sunshine

The Lines


Visceral grief of mine,


In the fathoms,

Of your oceanic love,

The way,

Are warmed,

These shivering, slender palms,

In the biting Oslo cold,

Wrapped up,

In a cushy woolen glove.


I forget,

To bother,


The sun had risen today,

Or Have the lily buds,


In my backyard.


perceive a change,

Within me,

Of not losing my sanity,

In the trap of the demons,

Who plagued my mind,

For eons together,

And crippled my thoughts,

Stole my inner peace,

And my surreal ecstasy.


I am free,

Unfettered and breathing.


I am truly alive,

Bursting into,

Colorful Confetti,

Shining with the sunshine beams,

Mingling with my liveliness,

Adding a radiant zest,

To its existence.