My purest abode.

In my purest abode ,
They speak with honest tongue,
ladden in colorless robes
are their figures ever young

Those sweetened heights of other worldy mountains
where images of men merry in earthly shadows.
the staircase flowered with tiny galaxies
and scattered with leaves of many colors.
spirals up into the tunnel of light
that leads the troubled souls away from dryness,
where ill conceited words have lost their stings,
where my own cocoon has got new wings.

where by the road the farmers till ,
till the stars are in harvest .
and those stars illuminated
have dotted wings in earnest.


there they abandoned all creeds ,
and they breed old seeds,
to a new stem of inflorescence
and is filled with unusual fragrance

There is no effort here,
purged of all mad trombones,
No struggle whatsoever
there is just love ,love and love.
An existence that has not mortal eyes met.
An elixir that no triviality can ever taste.

On left it goes up,
on right it goes down,
Breathing slowly ,no anomaly.
in center then they both meet,
there is untouched sword in it.

In my formless abode
there is nothing impure.
nothing that is mortal
nothing is unsure.

I will be darned mad,
if this be just a fad.
this is only one place,
I have had proof in space.

the lower seat of sword,
rise up through the fragile cord,
to the thousand petalled word ,
blessed blessed is my abode.