And there’s self
Always lean towards the self
Wow. I don’t think
I’m in love
Back in the time of Vishvamitra,
Making love under the sunlight
Your hand on my hand
And an orange flood of light
Warm hues in the sky, earth, and the seas
Yellow mellow scents; orange blossoms and a crowd of marigolds
A joining together type of feeling
A trusting zen-like breathing
I don’t know with who, I don’t know with what
Love love love love love
Makes you happy.
Amid an ocean of glistening gems
His chest heaves up and down, slowly
Like the waves.
The waters are gentle and warm
And they tease his skin sometimes
Making him smile at their playfulness.
Vishnu sleeps, above a bundle of anxious nerves
He sleeps sheltered underneath the umbrella of a cobra head
There’s gentle sounds of bells lulling him from somewhere
There’s a shower of fragrant flowers soothing his senses from the heavens above
There’s a soft glow in the rays from the sun god to the side
There’s a water goddess who he dreams of.
Vishnu sleeps, floating amass a boundless universe
Vishnu sleeps, through creation
The rivers overflow, the waterfalls rush down, the mountains crumble,
The volcanoes erupt, the ground rips apart,
And the vegetation freezes.
The world thaws, the butterflies come back,
Children laugh and hold hands
And the elderly wave their goodbyes
Life goes on,
in disappearing circles.
His chest heaving up and down, slowly
Cushioned over a bundle of wrecked serpentine nerves
His face glowing
His lips, smiling
Vishnu sleeps consciously
amid an open warm ocean
Inside the heart.