Western Moon And Eastern Sun! Poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar

Stare I at the stars,
Stairs I find in my heart,
I look at wonder at sky,
Why can't I find a new and try!

The Moon of West is romantic,
wander in the garden of many rosy stars,
Sun of East rose and brightened the sky and faded away both moon and stars
Large and black sky,
Now looked blue and small!

My mind sang with Tolkien,

"Still round the corner there
may wait
A new road or a secret gate
And though I oft have passed
them by
A day will come at last when I Shall take the hidden paths that
run
West of the Moon, East of the
Sun."

Than with Pablo Neruda,

"I crave your mouth, your voice,
your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl
through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me,
dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of
your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage
harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a
whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam
flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade
of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry,
sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
Like a puma in the barrens of
Quitratue."

Dreamed with silverstien,

"If you are a dreamer come in
If you are a dreamer a wisher a
liar
A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-
buyer
If youre a pretender com sit by my fire
For we have some flax golden
tales to spin
Come in!
Come in! '

Then with the Wordsworth,

'I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, The stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee; A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company; I gazed - and gazed - but little thought What wealth to me the show had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.'

Then with Rumi,

' Don't look at your form, however ugly or beautiful. Look at love and at the aim of your quest.... O you whose lips are parched, keep looking for water. Those parched lips are proof that eventually you will reach the source.'

Finally with Shankaracharya

' universe is the dance of infinite,
BRAHMAN is the Truth and not the Universe,
But universe is nothing but BRAHMAN,
And you art that Truth! '

And my wandering mind died and I am one with him!