Matrix Poem by Satish Verma
Matrix
He said creating a will
to become whole Being,
was more important. Spacing of thoughts
can wait. Fear was there
all the time.
Life had been loaned on a timeless impermanence,
an in-between death and death
Light was being and dark was being.
There was no god, no icon
only shades.
Castaway on a lonely stretch,
you tune in to the rising pitch of cuckoo.
It stops for a while. A deliberate pause.
Again more resolutely it rises
to measure the awakening!
A soul caged in body wants to fly away,
on an austere journey; solemn and relentless
transcending the misprints of life.
The matrix and it secret will be out
after a short while!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 8:11:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Dance steps, choreographed, have a feel of vibrant life. A little to the left, back, back, sway and recover what was in your hands all along. Look at the lines. Look, bring it before your face. Then bow, with grace. With an acceptance of what came before the note the flautist trilled thrillingly.