May be I am, may be you are
Immature and time unripe...
Ripe time is that when your heart
become my part, and mine yours
become one somehow. finding no difference...
I lose myself to you and you too lose to me
empty we become. filling empty cup
pouring from another empty cup....
No wonder dear, many unknown thoughts
many feelings, many secrets flow secretly
silently from one heart to another.
wonderful time we find with ourselves a paradox
when we have many things but unable to say
and we have no thoughts of our own...
Silent transmission of waves, well
tuning our transmitter and receiver
Let us listen to heart of all hearts..
Many things I could never tell you
May not be able to tell you, only I can tell you
'Probe into your own heart till you find mine...'
Many call this as flow of love
many may call this as mad love
But I simply say ' It is oneness.. '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
only oneness is here, thanks.