Flying Bird

Flying Bird When I am out of word poetry falters, Your beauty brings words like fountain, Spring of unalloyed Joy, My heart trembles and words flow like cascade, Joy sprinkles with sweet verbose, I feel myself to be accepted by the great existence, I feel you in the very fibre Of my self, Like a Dove of Knowledge You sit in the citadel, I feel without the feeling, Like clouds floating in the sky, Like light passing through vacuum, Life is nothing but preface of death, Death is nothing but deep rest, The mathematics of life is a mystery, Life must be decaying, In the very decadence life is experienced, Life must be an experience, Death must be an experience, Love must be an experience, In the utter emptiness of heart Life and death are synonymous, The Harmony of life is latent In the silence of death, Your beauty is like a flying bird, In the inner being you flutter. @Prabir Gayen 10: 57 PM. Fri. May 14 / 2021.