- - -My Stella - No 62

-My stella-62 -My rest and recluse - This untimely monsoon did awake indulgence and I forgotthy word of love. Dictum dies in inert pain and dizzy is the sense. Sitting careless on the lawn, mower of disused land mind is unwary of the essence. Life and death have no dissonance, One is rest and relaxation is the other, repose in matter and rest in spirit. The sky, blue or dark, starry or cloudy, Moonlit or eclipse, is a habit. The tumult of shower and serene breeze, thunder or lightning and smiling sun rays, all is a habit. No wonder, no merriment and no recluse, Life is a habit of pain and pleasure, a monotony wondrous and weird. Only my stella is alive distant and outlying. She is a chance and variant, isolated from daily blabber of mindfulness. The mind's undying face of unfathomed ardour, The unlit temple of immortality. My stella is my ever green bower that blooms Flowers without branch and root.