I am a floating hope
waiting an invitation from the roots of present
from his distant gates
but no sound calls me to come
no shade asks to meet light.

What my brush paints
and my eyes fear;
the mirage of seperation
the boat is sinking in the sea
happy with no reason
I float free of time;
surprise of finding
myself all alone;
a mountain surrender by winter winds
scent of pine and simplicity of night
I am not praying,
happy to move forward
out of suffering,
when you do nothing
long enough
time removes everything
except hope;
in waiting for an invitation of remembrance.

Before, after
I was born
love is enough
floating is perfect
and all gates open.

I heard no one calling me to come;
surely the brush has left a fire or a shadow
inside my eyes
I don’t run after love
let her find me
and obsorb my entire existance
If love is love;
nothing more remains to be known.

~ Serena Devi ~

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