Being.

If just moments fall,
What must I drink from,
A ferocious swelling,
That shalt feed me,
Barely clothed.

Given my fill,
Turns my choice,
Of wonders or vague,
Of joy or sweet joy.
Jingles, heat unexpectedly.

Bliss, from rising,
Change still golden,
A wind smells uplift,
And I breathe just so,
Caught, touches skin.

Even so, that ray,
Awaits veiled, sweet,
If shall rest, break,
And if lives, brighten,
That which mirrors itself.

On frail knees, pray,
Picture deep exuberance,
Deeper still sustainability,
If only chained, had sooner,
Maybe sudden, be giving.

Rise, let, and accept,
Dig, burry, and soothe,
Teach, taught and extend,
That familiarity, shines,
True, in true times.

Naked and deprived,
Finished yet complete.

~ Ielfphil Raven.

Thy Heart.

Thy heart is like some icy lake,
On whose cold brink I stand;
Oh, buckle on my spirit's skate,
And lead, thou living saint, the way
To where the ice is thin--
That it may break beneath my feet
And let a lover in!

~ Rahul.

We'll Go No More A-Roving.

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Presenting... Rahul!

I'm glad I could have you on my blog!

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So, we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have a rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.

~ Rahul.