In the heart of the cavern, light
that stands ancient behind time, beyond
phenomena, the observer of melodies;
This is where it all began,
those aeons lost when the mollusc
heeded the call to man.

Inward, stalked by worry and loss,
an inversion of the lines of time:
beyond the zero point of recollection,
where zoom microcosms of possibilities
a realm not realm, but like that
an existence beyond existence.

Here, arose an affliction, in
curled expanses that exist as some among
an infinitude of potentials,
worldlines, some dark and featureless,
others growing and meaningless
and some like here where sentient,

observatory, a shadow grows around
the probing ray of infant awareness.

and so the ascent, from light to light
through alleys of darkness. Vast,
the beginnings and interludes
between phantasmagoria; What
accedes of in slumber, the knowledge
of things and nothings.

And up even until the day when
the babe says 'mine'.

There be some juice. Light, we cannot drink.
Dark our days that trudge on, laden caravan.
There be some song, to the tune of the winds.
Parched, the baked earth thirsting for a caress
wet from the silken lashes of the sky maiden.

Let's talk to her tonight,
the last lotus is in still-bloom
in the folds of her tresses
as she goes about plucking
stars for her worship-basket.
Soon the earth is covered
in the misty offerings to Deities
at the far end of spacetime.

Juice some there be. Drink, we cannot light.
Caravan laden on trudge that days our dark.
The winds of the tune to song some there be.
A caress for thirsting earth the baked, parched
maiden the sky of lashes the silken from wet.

Let there be light, let there be.
Darkness, we have enough.

Four flowers bloomed this morning at the horizon
and the world is drenched wet in tears the skies
wept for joy, maiden of the dawns, I saw you pluck
stars for your basket of prayers before the hours
and now you are gone, past the windswept edges.

I see your presence that has filled the peals of light
peering into my chamber this hour before deed.
Sombre noons when the koel cries for her beloved
I hear your footsteps jingle in the distant wood.
When the lamps of longing are lit at dusk, send

rains that soothe the valleys and the winds that
caress the river weeping  for the sorrow of loss.

Deep in the nights, your silences more sonant
than the footfalls that waken the grazing deer.
I saw your smile behind the untended fires
in the heart of the cavern, but I did not hurry.
And now I hear myself echoing in the quarters.

The clown cries silent tears
Behind his painted on smile
Carrying a single red balloon
Trying to walk in big shoes

All the world is laughing
As he keeps on walking
No one sees his sadness
For he wants to belong

This is his curse and career
Always just a laughing stock
If only they saw his humanity
They would be all the same

The clown had no home
All his world is a circus
Putting on a show and watched
Isn't he a bit like all of us

Love comes looking for you
When you least expect it
Knocking on your door
Begging you to let it in

Even when you're broken
Love will come, lift you up
Rise your spirits once more
Give you hope in yourself

Maybe you won't believe
But a part of you needs to
Able to feel those emotions
As part of a soul, belonging

You can laugh with love
Just as love will cry with you
For it is a feeling like no other
We all will await, as love comes

Hello to you once again,
My old enemy
You came Creeping out
From the darkest recess
Out of my mind

When I think at last
That I have defeated you
You prove me wrong
And no matter how I try
You keep coming back

For so many years
We fight this battle
But no matter how much
You keep pushing me
I manage to hold on

If I lost my soul to you
Then the end would come
I would be no more,
Trapped by insanity
Broken and forgotten

So no matter when you come
Dragging yourself in rage
You try in endless torment
To shatter my senses
You are my depression

That part of me, in misery
Which I try to push away
Alas, you are always there
Reminding me how I fell
But I continue to stand

Ill-gotten knave!  Thy witless candle burns
Bright as a baboon's ****!  Thy gnarlèd brows
Greet, meet and mingle like the wildling ferns
And thy breath turns and churns insides of cows!
Thou stompest me? Ha! Bring thy brothers all,
Beneath my steely boot thou shall be trod!
Dust be thy supper, feast upon thy fall,
Eat hearty of thy just deserted sod!
Thou comest hither with thy merry folk,
Thou japes a merry jest upon my kin?
Thy bandy leggèd jiggery a joke,
To spilleth of mine cup is thine own sin!
        If thou be not afraid, let thee not hide,
        My gauntlet speaks! Will thou comest outside?