Deliver Me

I have been living in short bursts lately.

But, I like life with passion–with intensity. You can split an atom or fire a staccato burst of emotions. The intensity is there, but at the end of the explosion, or when the dust has settled down, it could leave you wondering how it had exploded, how you had exploded? What have you been doing? Where are you going?

I need to go back to the source often–very often. There is chaos when the self is a slave to auto-pilot programming, to conformity, to fears. The music dies. I can’t hum the tune. Or, it doesn’t sound beautiful. I retreat.

I no longer have the patience to wait on the sidelines. I want to be deliberate–make things happen and make others happy. It makes me happy.

Please be deliberate such that when I go back to the source, I still find you there–exactly you who I encounter in my every day.  I don’t want separation. We are one. I want you to be the same you when I accept the call, when I go through the trial, when I go back to the source until I return to the realm where I met you. I would want to find you at any point in my journey to self-discovery. I’m doing the lemniscate.

I am not sure who I’m talking to. I have this fear that I’m searching my heart for who truly loves me and who I truly love. I want the deliberate ones.

Times like this, when I go back to the source–of this passion, this intensity–I find my heart less-turbulent. I have been told that when less-turbulent, the wisdom of the heart comes in. It might not be wrong to say that the heart thinks.

Here’s hoping writing is the antidote to daily programming–to short bursts that are meaningless and empty.



the windows are thrown open
to the trembling of a gong
struck by our truths
our confessions

our feet they falter but we thrive
in the death of cacophony

music is a religion
a slaughterhouse of our own dragons

you believe in angels
and you believe in devils
you sing them songs
i sing along