Poetry

Song of seperation

It’s not the sound of the reed flute ,that soothes your soul. But it’s the sound of the very wood that was hollowed with knives.

Cutted apart from its root, since then it has been making this crying sound…………..in the grief of its seperation from its source. Anything that’s seperated from its source of creation longs to go back.

Poetry

Over abundant love

I loved you exceedingly and illogically.

Was it the over abundance of my love ,, that forced you to turn your face away from me….that you took off your hands from me….

My love for you was a flooding river …..but you wanted to drink love from a cup…… You conceal your ears when my love roared….. You only wanted it’s whisperings ………..