You were still thinking.
Thinking beyond thoughts―
the void, the space, the time.
A crush of relics was
piling up. Bloodshed and poverty
at hands, you do not want to talk.
The challenge of being or isness
persists. I go back to the
culture of ancient theology to
understand the divine arithmetic.
The numbers were increasing,
of gods, godmen and crimes.
No sermons. The autumn
will bring down the foliage―
green, red, brown
to yellow.
Amazing overview of the present day gory developments vis-a-vis those of the past. Thank you, Sir.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome expression through and through. I quote: Thinking beyond thoughts― the void, the space, the time.