Waiting for the Clouds to rain on us!

The thing -- spontaneous --head upside down. Gaze gazing inward. throat skyward. Elixir enters through the throat. Transfixed I drink through the throat. Drop by drop it cools the within. It is addicting. As if on a drug. In this case ambrosia. I sit there, cross legged, day after day --head spontaneously upside down, drinking through throat, gazing inward, I’m drenched in meditation, I’m drenched in peace, contentment and ‘wanting more of this’ -neck delightfully glued and hanging over the shoulder --upside down-- as if it is my necks natural position.
I remember. A bird that is full of adventures. A bird that never drinks water from the river or the lake. A bird that waits for months and months. A bird that quenches its thirst in the months of monsoon. I remember a bird with a hole in a throat. A bird that flies upside down at the sight of the first cloud in the sky. A bird that is undaunted by the thunder and the lightening. A bird that drinks unsullied raindrops as they drip from the cloud. I remember such a bird. I'm filled with the rememberance of mythical Chataka.
Our ordeal is same. We sit there like Chataka. Head upside down-- throat skyward--waiting for the clouds to rain on us!

The hour of Evening

It was the hour of evening. Stepping those stairs in Medborgsplasten, I felt the tap in my eyes. It was a gentle tap. Looking inside I looked up. The sky was blazing. Houses and tree tops were clothed in a golden hue. Enchanted by the magic display I walked by the sun. Hours passed as I followed the Sun. Sun in tern circled around me. The smell of the sea weed filled my body. I stopped and camped on the bank. Sun poured itself into my eyes and down it sank within me. Such was the hour that evening.

Aisle of the Light

I put on my armour, my shawl. I cross my legs and close my eyes. I home in.
Whirling at the bottom gently and slowly my body dances in the lotus posture. Then suddenly with a volcanic jolt She rises from earth to the ether. Both the nostrils at use. Rapid breathing... One way only…. No outgoing. Head thrown back. Elongated neck. Jaws thrown wide open. Coal darkness. Tongue curls up in the throat like the leaf in the wind, finding its way in the space. I feel the sensation of cool breeze inside me. Looking for the truth my tongue rides in the space like the insect riding and looking for light. Beyond blackness of the light there is nothing. I feel stillness pervading my entire being. Ambrosia drips in. I feel dressed in ambrosia as I walk down the aisle of light.