Turned Into Water And Fled Away- 2 Poem by Seshendra Sharma

You may play with any number of colours in this life but one day you will be fortunate to meet your ancient darkness, that darkness in the womb of which the originals of your life lie pulsating
One day when singing birds, fled away watching me approaching, I collapsed with depression, feeling how sinful I must be
I cannot mint into gold into gold coins and introduce into the markets of the world my own sin, which I gathered in my journey across geological times
I would plunge into my deepest depths; I would squeezeinto my own ear and jump into my own heart, I would enter into my own eyes and descend into my soul, in those recesses, man lies the pristine child in the tiny anthropological bag ofelementary juices, which are the tributaries of Ananda, the indefinable bliss
I would play my forgotten ancient games on those shores with eternity, lying there like a wrecked ship forever
There all my nerves feel, like the soft white neck of a swan, is tenderly squeezed, as if the silver boy, the moon, is placed on anvil andhammered gently to be drawn into thin slender silver wires;
What undecipherable experience spread into the capillaries of my eyeballs how can I say
The whole world looks completely different
A tree blows its cheeks, and holding a flower between two branches, plays it as a Shehnai - throwing just one melody, a bulbul carried away on the its tiny wings the whole garden