Of birth and death,
life is but a cross-fade.
A tinge of meaning,
painted to the trembles of my tendrils
as the soul of each encaptured emotion.
The aumkara of the first voice of the universe,
fumes up in my crevices.
With the smoke of ashes,
the wisdom of soul
smothers my ambience.
In the receding mist
of the unscribbled unclarity,
as I open my eyes-,
flown with the wind,
I find me gone…
I take birth,
in each bubble of fatality.
And I die in the sublimation,
of each vibration of music…
of every birth and death,
life is but a cross-fade.
painted to the trembles of my tendrils as the soul of each encaptured emotion. Rachel Ann Butler
a wisdom write... full of truth... wonderful to read thanks for sharing this great piece, Sarvesh 10+++ lovelots, Maia
dear sarvesh, a very wise write, interesting andadmirable coming from someone so young.life and death follow each other like day and night....except when the soul takes rest in god when liberated.this poem is going to my favourite! best wishes.....ritty
i humbly bow to u, sarvesh for your insight into the intriguing process of life and death...i still have to figure out which precedes which!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
quite an insight, sarvesh.and so unique to your way of perception.yes, life is fragile and you have described it so well!