Sunday Poem: Silent Voice At The End Of Night

Now I have
Encroached upon
The area of my
Rights, interests.
I have tightly held
The happiness
In my open
That I once rejected.

My heart fill
With emotion
Straight and plain
Easy with concertration
Takes movement
Curves at a moment
Attracted at the
Touch of blue thought
The thought dances
In the wave of love.

Sometimes like a cuckoo
Somewhere like a fountain
Queen Radha dances
To the magnetic tune
Of flute played in
Attachment and illusion.

Doesn’t matter
Who knows
But she is mad
As if she conquered love.

Under the shadow of deciduous
Dark vegetation
Today also the Yamuna
Searches for
The dance and drama
Of that art
Where time peeps
In a different way
Of love.

No hope, no desire now
No arguments
I have surrendered
All my love, devotion
Attachment, adoration.

In the dawn
My mind dances
The innermost core
Of my heart wishes
To write a new history
Of different characters
In extra ordinary manness.