The author, Nandishi Shriram

The author, Nandishi Shriram
Colors myriad, yet a land unexplore

Saturday, August 14, 2010

What is love?

Sometimes they tell me I am mad, to want so much.

Then they tell me I am only human, to want, to desire.

To desire from the very dregs of my blackened soul,

Is to live, without you, yet in your memory, I travel distances

In my dreams, I am reaching for only you.

For I have loved, you and you only.



It is a sad day, yet so very beautiful, for maybe I have cried.

In blood, I am yours.



But it is a loved one that one longs for, not for the ordinary is this turmoil.

We sing, we dance, we toil, for who? For you? For me? For beauty?



Tell me is it love that allows me to survive for ever?

Is it that very love that drives me to vistas that I may never see or have seen?

Is it dreams that awaken me from my stupor and remind me that it will never be you again?

Oh it is an illusion that I live, for I am a mere fragment for the universal light.

It is just a spark that divinates every living being, that allows a life to form from plain seed.



What is it that separates illusion from reality?

A vast horizon that yawns over chasms that seem like eternity,

Yet it is simply a veil that lifts when we move over

To another reality that we may never experience in the physical



Yet a truth emanates from the being’s very pore.

That we live, we exist in every realm that we have traversed.

So remember that it is only love that carries us over to oceans varied.

So when I love, I live within you.



In every living, loving moment, I move in fluid grace.

Hoping that love be with me all the way, leaving me only to traverse another realm.

Where I will be some day.

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