Fly, child of god, fly.

Beautiful! Sometimes I wonder if it is a GIFT for many kind lifetimes to be born in a beautiful place where Nature makes home!
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LAYERS OF CONFUSION (Progress? )
====== == ==========   ======


How simple those days were
when hunger moved us to seek,
what could fill our tums,
not delicacies alone!
When territories were exclusive
and respected,
BUT mates were just for the season
to cherish and to fight for.
When love meant a tussle in the mud
or a playful pat on the head,
When tomorrow did not exist
and today was all we had;
when loyalty meant just existing
and fighting whatever threatened that
when life was but a chain of instants
and a hazy collage of images
when fear meant just running
in a cloud of dust and confusion.
When stopping meant 'tis time to eat
when death and failure were just not
a part of our limited consciousness.
When childbirth was nothing special
nor was losing one's mate,
when pleasure was rubbing one's back
against the rough bark of a tree
when nature was the only
cornerstore in town
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
We had to outgrow that bliss
We had to make things complex
we had to feel the softness
of a new baby's soft touch and smell.
We had to find that special one
that we could cherish and hold
till death do us part.
We had to feel the pangs of pain
when threads of continuity broke.
We had to know what there was
beyond our immediate needs,
we had to stand on our hindlegs
we had to look far and wide.
We had to build those houses
we had to store our food
we had to cover our bodies
we had to make those tools
we had to grow our own food
we had to outsmart nature,
the mother that cared for us long
We had to build friendships,
we had to bridge our souls.
We had to build new boundaries
over our evergrowing souls,
we had to shatter our bliss
we had to turn into humans
and stir the layers of confusions
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

(C) 1993 Night Owl Gazette

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by Rohiniranjan

[quote="reichild"]Fly, child of god, fly.


I listened to the song

of mourning for you,

Sweet young Goddess

By those who believe

Our enemy is death.

I smelt the perfumed

Scent of your knowing,

In 4 perfect frangipani petals.

Arid the Aussie air as

My human hair stood on end

When your spirit blew in on

Westerly breeze, touching

Us each goodbye with an

Ever so gentle brush.

Bright the azure sky, clear

Oh so clear the day you chose

To fly out of the valley of fear.

See the beams of light surround,

Behold dear one, the Angels path...

Hands of love outstretched await you,

Sweet young  Goddess, this is your day

The trumpets sound as you

Comprehend the letter there of

For this station of Gods immutable

Decree, his for ordained mystery.

Fly high sweet child, fly high.........




Papalii.R.T. [img]http://www.open.ac.uk/computing/m150/images/COPY-symbol.gif[/img] 2005[/quote]

WOW now that is beautiful my friend i love it! y don't you post it in the forum for all to see?  

Oh but Pravin sir, you are an Astrologer...are you not anyway Palmists make good poets too i am sure

Thankyou for appreciating our poetry