Night and solitude. Why ask for another, when this music that anchors itself into you, an abstraction more concrete than the others who left you, is always true, true right to it's bones?

Imagination is the only door out of the prison of daily despair.

Life has a richer taste to the soul that is hungry and mad, even if one suffers more as a consequence.

The only worthy goal of all art is God, yes, to know the final mystery.

Poetry is the last shell of language that covers the human heart. One has to break even poetry, to know the heart.

Writing should be a process that flays open the heart and spilts it open - a expansive red sky.

If one doesn't travel, either with the feet of the body or the feet of the mind, one dies.

Inspite of intense loneliness, all artists must persevere, for in art lies redemption.

Like Nataraja, your epnoymous God, You too should dance a world Into exisistance from a circle of fire.

The musician ends the evening with Raga Bhairavi. You walk out into a sky of fire

Darling, touch my face now, Just before your wedding To the other, with your wet hennaed hands.I want to study the lines of fate that refused to join us in those lines of fire.

[1] Humility

Field of grass Heavy with seed, I spend long hours Interrogating you

For the secret of Contenment. Teach me The technique to be Greatful, to bow,

And touch the ground, A pilgrim offering thanks.

[2] Fullfilment

If you need a way To understand fullfilment Of desire, study the summer's

Perfection, which quickens Everything to a high pitch Of green. There is no effort

And no rest. When this epic, or any epic, is read one doesn't notice how many pages were turned and how many more are left to turn.

[3]Meetings

When you meet someone, don't do it As dust settles in untouched rooms. Be the moth that hurls itself at flame.

And then wonder at the strange maps That would result in the ever growing Atlas of your dying life.

[4]Desire

You desire everything, yet only feebly. Your friable bones are untouched by it. Your blood is not the filament Of life's aceytylene torch yet.

So hide your hungers. Do not beg obsequeisly. Let your hunger feed On itself. Let it become so strong That God himself will come to serve Your feast!