Am I watching the universe? Or
Is the universe watching me?
I am a bird perched on a high tree
While the tree is witnessing me

Each day is a new match
The match I fiercely play
The day retreats to dusk
Carrying tales of my ways

Some good, some bad,
Some make me wonder
Revisiting and recounting
Memories of past encounters

Like a flicker in the dark
Life calls me to resolve
The next day starts a new cycle
Propelling me forward to absolve

The universe seems conscious
Communicates with all its elements
While i wonder, who is more vigilant?
The playful universe remains silent


Not a leaf flutters
Not a single murmur
At the behest of life
Works the silent gardener

The spring, the rainy, the winter
Through sundry other seasons
Spinning the web of nature
The tireless act of creation

Like a picture gradually morphed
The minute details are sort
All arranged like someone’s thought
Are they deeds of hidden hands or not?

The gentle touch that brings life
The deep compassion with might
An expert artist at work
Who is this silent gardener?


( different emotions are different shades expressed as black to white)

When all is stillness
The heart alone beats
The shades of silence I see
Darker to lighter they proceed

If patterns could speak
The pigments would be words
If my eyes could read them
A new language would unfold

For silence is all pervasive
Ever absorbing the noise
It’s soft hues can tell stories
Never heard of at all

When a blade of grass sways
It shares a story of it’s days
From black to white and
Different shades of grey

A store house of records
Gulping away the noise
The different shades of silence
Mutely bears it all


Until the seal of fate opens
Unless the time reveals the layers
Where intellect cannot reach
The mystic’s eye can breach

The eyes alone cannot see
The undercurrents of the sea
Awareness must dive deep
To discover life’s treats

The eyes that skim the surface
The mind that seeks beyond
The intellect that holds discretion, alone
Can stand the test of time

The mystic walks where few men tread
The worldly ways seem like stale bread
Questioning the very existence of life
The mystic’s eyes sees through all


Perhaps the universe is a thinking machine
A labyrinth of layers and grids of nothing
It is as brightest and darkest and all in between
Chance and luck are its way of ‘being’

Destiny and fate are the mysteries of time
Learning through experience is the goal of life
Living  over and over through many lifetimes
We exist in fractals of worlds, all seemingly alive

All is present and is absent too
Happiness evades all,  but for few
The key to unlock the master within
Lies deep inside the minds of every being