The longing, ancient and eternal,
beyond poet's words,
beyond Philospher's boards,
Nothing to be done ,
Nothing can be done,
when water has evaporated ,
whats the use of the bowl?

whats the cause of the mysterious?
whats the source of it all,
this longing is not sadness,
for it is too sweet,
to be anything that uncouth ,
its distilled sorrow,
pure in its lineage of fogs,
of centuries ,
That stir a soft man's heart
Man who longs for the secrets,
not for any desired effects
But for that uncontrolled pulse,
to drink life at one go!

But then this unfinished journey ,
both bitter and sweet ,
maddening and wisening,
resurrecting and damning,
murdering and saving ,
is still My most prized possesion

That supernatural has installed in me,
this eternal blood ,
that dries not,
nor does it clot.
So kind the supernatural to me
That I seek not kindness
nor a fairness ,
anywhere else .
In the ordinary world,
of ordinary people,
Let them come and be unkind,
Not a muscle I will stir
i will just rejoice in the longings,
Mysterious,ancient ,eternal!