[sic]
India only reveals herself to those who are prepared to be still and over a long period to listen humbly at close quarters to the beating of her heart; only to those who have already entered sufficiently far into themselves, into their own depths, to be able to hear in the inner chamber of the heart that which India is ceaselessly whispering to them by means of a silence that transcends words. For silence is above all the language through which India reveals herself...and imparts her essential message, the message of interiority, of that which is Within.
First Verse of Introduction of book on Sri Gnanananda -- Fr Le Saux

my heart sank into a reveries

cause it missed you

thee was  no rush no words


i couldn't hear a  thing


just silence on thee freeways

I woke through the dashboard.


See, I've been gone.

It is navaratri.
A most holy 9- day festival, worship of the Divine Mother in many manifestations.

Truly meaning, the soul's awakening beyond the three gunas, into the state of nirakara.

Without a great Master, how would I know that which is ?

I used to think my life would be so significant.

As if I, represent the microcosm within my world, of this universe.
In part it is true.
But now , I now. All these days, are lonely ones.
The divine mother listens but none else.

We are always walking, mother.
I neither see your face ,
but for the wet remembrance coursing my veins.

Each day gets closer,
my knee is got a cramp from sitting too long.
I stare at the screen waiting for the next day.
Forgetting the simple sequence,
my meals sit cold and lonely.
The computer fan whizzes away the hot steamy in puffs and billows

suddenly, a stolen glance

and I remember what it was like.
To be by your chair, as you petaled away in laughter
.
Every night
Every moment

Death is parting kiss.
Until, we meet again dear mother.

When I searched for you,
I found only despair cased in empty sounds
Searching for myself,
your beaming smile

I feel an endless emptiness
in each day

My thoughts come running down like water,

by the time everything 'loads'; the intensity of the moments sputters out like a dying firecracker. 

The glory of spontaneity is lost in our pre-ordained society.

You call yourself a free spirit 

but what about you is free ? 

like O.E. said, you don't know where your going so your quest/goal remains elusive.


we chase the same rabbits in different costumes and bemoan our serendipitous moments, or lack thereof. 


I am a stranger here,
sometimes I long to go back, go back where, I do not know.
Somewhere, to a culture, any, the East , or any consort of 
peace.

Will my grave be marked amongst the shallow ditches
of men who lived only through their senses?
Whose ideas of constraint tossed in reckless abandon
in aimless pursuits?

I would rather, scatter my ashes to the wind.
I belonged to no one.
I was nothing
I was the eternal sky in space.

Waiting for you all my life,


fills the empty spaces.
But I never see faces, only shadows. 

The Riddle of Epicurus, or Problem of evil, is a famous argument against the existence of an all-powerful and providential God or gods. As recorded by Lactantius:
God either wants to eliminate bad things and cannot, or can but does not want to, or neither wishes to nor can, or both wants to and can. If he wants to and cannot, then he is weak - and this does not apply to god. If he can but does not want to, then he is spiteful - which is equally foreign to god's nature. If he neither wants to nor can, he is both weak and spiteful, and so not a god. If he wants to and can, which is the only thing fitting for a god, where then do bad things come from? Or why does he not eliminate them?
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