A morning walk...

Moments in stillness, when all moves far away and yet dwells within, when sounds occur in silence. 

When the winds ruffle your hair and you are not there, and in that stillness, time and space wait, for you to return... 

The weeping lion

Sprinklers and the fragrance

Of wet earth

Stroked the fluttering flag.

The hot ‘tulsi-mulaithi tea

Trickled down my throat

In deep cleansing.

And by my side

The growling lion,

Carved in stone, wept.

On the waves of silence

Wafted by the morning breeze

Came the haunting strains of the chant

“Aauumm”.

"...ॐ..."

The ‘Aaa’ emerging from deep within

Reached out.

The ‘Uuu’, never ending,

Trembled in the breeze.

The ‘Mmm’ mingled with both, 

And as One, 

They embraced all existence.

Cocooned in the reverberations

I drifted away.

Within those syllables all was still.

I ceased being to be.

I was the scintillating morning glimmer

On the leaves and the grass,

The sun-rays streaming from behind the clouds,

And the chirping, so clear, 

That came from far far away.

Time and space, stilled within that moment,

Waited for me to return. 

 In itself and within the stillness was the belief:

“In this land of  three syllables 

The lost rivers never died.

They lived on in its people, 

Carrying love, faith, hope 

And an undying belief 

The humanity would one day prevail

And the weeping lion

Would come alive and learn to roar again.”