English Poem–Meditative imagination

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Away from that sultry existence where tastes, senses, feelings, emotions, savories, and elemental bindings play the upper hand, I enjoy the lotus posture with a soft smile swirling on my lips.

The plane where I sit is leveled with the floating waves of gentle music that comes creeping from all the corners.

There is a lullaby sung by the flowing water at an unseen location.

Overall, the surroundings can be termed as soothing and assuasive.

Some pairs of birds sit on the roof of the rock a few paces away, below which, is the gate.

It is closed. My Master has not come out, yet.

There is no fear, no concern, and no uncertainty of anything.

My being just awaits the movement of the clock which would mark the arrival of my Overself.

The rendezvous is assured yet asks for patience.

This setting is at a peak. The wind sometimes picks up as to check the agitation of my being.

It prods and jabs me to aspire more and more so that the awaited hour could be preponed.

When the Lord decides, no gate can bar me from the delight of that vision.

The bliss that my being would be exposed to is indescribable.

It is pure alien to any impurity of wish, want, and craving. It’s self-fulfilling and overpowering.

In that designated hour of my tryst, I plan to leap forward towards my Overself and unite myself to the eternal existence from where there is no return.

I await the tick of the clock…

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