Who is the Master?

Within the labyrinth your feelings, behind stones and hidden roads, where dreams and desires seems gone and storm of change seems the only reality that your mind can grasps, you must slow down, become still, let your eyes get used to unseen, inside the dark, where all signs are slept in night and the melody of moon doesn’t have the bass to move away your worries, doubts. You can always listen, to that sacred voice within, silence.
It is normal to be uncomfortable, to be afraid, and yet allow new ways move into your awareness, and some old ones leave. What most of the time troubles, is our human stories, what we are identified with, how deeply rooted we are in the world of forms, how honest we have lived with our own heart?

The path of mastery is a less travel path, not much signs or even travelers, you walk with your shadow, sleep on rocks and cold grounds, days might feel like years, once in a while, above your head you see a falcon, an eagle, or just a moving dot, perhaps a bird beyond time soaring new frontiers. You wonder, if you chose the right path, or if you are the right person, no one is out there, in deep silence, it is only you and aloneness, speaking, showing, and giving you courage to move closer to center of your fears, where you can find whatever you need for the rest of your Soul journey.

Today, a white feather is coming toward you, untouched, light, and full of promise. Open a space with palm of your hands, let it land there. Let your eyes get soft around the ages, then gently touch the softness, fragile and delicate, it is life. You can write with it, you can put it on your hat as decoration, you can use it for a ritual, and you can listen to its magic. You can share a journey with this white feather into unknown and undiscovered parts of life, the first secret into Mastery begins with becoming Receptive and open.

You begin to feel the pulse of nature, hear the wind murmur beneath autumn trees’ leaves, you open to an untold story of moments. This feather is a better teacher than “I”, it arrives from nowhere, in asks for nothing, it offers everything she is, it surrenders to your touch, it become receptive.
Now ….Who is the Master?

Serena Devi

From Tehran to Freedom – repost


In Tehran,
The crows fly
Above the prison’s bar,
One by one,
Carry nothing,
Except fear.
In Tehran,
Pedestrians must wait
A life time
If they follow the law
To cross.
Unending wait
for the next stop light’s green.
In Tehran,
Sun doesn’t know
Where to set,
Mountains are disappeared
Behind the smokes.
In Tehran,
Original is a dream,
And everything else
is a version,
a copy,
an imitate of real.
In Tehran,
All birds
must fill out a form
Before they break
The sky’s limit,
Must chain their wings,
To burden
cry” we are still here”…
In Tehran,
Memories are
the only free zone,
That people could walk in peace.
The present,
Is full of hardship,
violence is the norm,
and kindness is a luxury
that no one could even wish.
In Tehran,
My heart is a prisoner
Who tries to forget the reasons,
And surrender to what it is
Yet, most of the days,
pain speaks her.
Only hope
Knocks on my door
once in a while,
In a middle of nightmares,
To whisper…
Soon, soon
you will depart.
In Tehran,
Gardens are caged
Between guns,
And children
Are not allowed
To chase butterflies.
Dreams are forbidden,
Being yourself
is a crime.
In Tehran,
Poets are cautious
with words,
Passion is no longer a trend.
Guitar players,
Forget how to play
all strings.
Music is a senseless act
of a victim
sentenced to a gas chamber,
smelling a red rose.
Behind walls
Fear breathes,
Low and close.
Anytime, anyone
Could break in
To plunder someone’s life,
And no advertisement for
human’s right
in the city hall.
The burden in my heart
Is a longing of a nation,
To be met again,
In freedom,
To share simple things,
Without fear,
To be a creation of love
Bow again
In fields of lovers and passion,
To Rumi, hazif and khayam.
In Tehran,
Many years ago,
I used to climb
High mountains,
“Inhale fresh air,
See beautiful wild flowers,
Smell and eat abeh gosht*
Rest in stillness shade,
Drink mint tea,
Steal kisses from clouds,”
It wasn’t just me,
It was everyone’s tale,
In laugh,
in happiness,
living in light.
we call those days,
Untouchable memories…
In Tehran,
I packed and unpacked,
Many suitcases,
many times, each journey
unfolded a bit of path that I was on,
consciousness on a rise!
This time,
I pack my longings,
They don’t take much space,
One small pack,
tagged in the name of god.
I leave behind
All belongings, possessions,
In a recycle bin.
I wait for no one,
I know after summer,
Autumn will brings
The right wind.
I take back my wings,
Free of all chains,
Attachments, beliefs, stories.
I shall fly to a new life,
Somewhere else
will welcome,
My wandering soul,
With open hands.
I will plant a new me
In its fresh soil.
I make a kite of
the pages of
my poetry,
and my heart
in silence.
* Abeh Gosht A persian food made by lamb stew
© Serena Devi,

Between hands of time


Between hands of time
a traveler makes small plans.
What seems closer than feelings and thoughts;
flee into open space of heart.

To be human means
Look through the soft variable edge of light
land on silent gaps of a song; invisible to your eyes.

The heart confused of doing nothing,
helplessly circles around the future sky
ending her small wishes into greater plans.

To travel between two worlds
There is an untouched and secret moment,
Inviting you; in which you awake;
to breathe closer to sound of earth.

You remember;
The wounds that burnt like a sun
The pain and joy that carved and transformed your clay;
the bitter taste of wasted dreams has turned to delicious mature wine.
A golden vineyard beyond the scope of your plans!

Between hands of time
Can you imagine a new life for yourself
away from white fences and wild cats.

Who knows how far a traveler walks
To embrace the path,
Find the lost courage, drink the Gods wine
Cry; in happiness
Who knows; what you choose to invite into your life;
to give away, to become.

The path belongs to the traveler;
The meet the heart in present;
And walk fully awake on earth.

Wherever you are, you have been before
The urgency that moves you forward or keep you still
The tides, the sound of ocean inside;
Everything is you.

Between hands of time;
love, wind, fairy tale;
day and night;
one stay, one disappear.
what you see, do you believe?
but remember
What you believe, you shall live!

Go beyond

Touches no longer define the lines around my body
I am surrender to this fragile feelings
Of wanting to go beyond who I am,
To meet another
whom could endure my companion
Accept me for who I am
let me burry my soul in him,
And take his.

I have been longing for so long,
My heart has lost her voice,
In storms of love.

Every day, in every way,
I look for a feeling
To tell me, you are here,
inside me, beside me.

Loving is not a concept
or a mental approach,
Loving is living in constant flames,
till one become lover herself.

Passion is not just passing moments
Of desires or urges
It is the place to meet my own soul,
In all I see around,
whoever I encounter
Whom I share a poem, a touch or just a kiss,
It is the ability of my heart to offer
everything, in full trasparency
so I could feel everything,
even when the knife cut my flesh,
blood covers my face,
I stay still, surrender
to what love transcends.

I feel the eyes in me,
I feel the soul, everywhere,
where do I end? where do you begin?
I know,
In not knowing,
I am ripen in truth.

It feels like centuries waiting to fall
To fall and flow
And never ask again,
when do I see him again?
Am I leaving, are you coming,
where the bridge between these two worlds
that one day I stand in full balance
and covered in grace
and in a blink an eye,
my heart falls in ache of linging, yearning to go beyond me.

I just need to open my eyes
perhaps just to see I am between your palms,
just to feel, you want me as much as I want you.

Endure me, my love,
Endure me, my soul,
The passage is ours,
the union is our destiny
We are going beyond us.
~ Serena Devi ~