Translation of hymn (The space-weaver)

Om, divine salutations to the ethereal and surreal of space, to the one that bridges the barriers and all of its frontiers, to the space that becomes in all forms, salutations to the one that transcends.

Sivaye , the supreme, the lord-maker, make thy form in our reverence.

From beginnings begotten in their ends, the forces of nature in their power to append. The primal in-built enforced in every foundation. Sweet words and glory merely pedestals to raise and grace that which is to behold, affixed in its guiding star of manifestation.


The emergence a river of sound, set upon in arrows bound together in their quiver.  The midsummer archer set in the sky, the sun to reflect. Angled to cast in planetary musk to bask.  The objective apart, yet within reach. Remaining in the constellations bonafide, a path through the skies.  Each star knows itself in …

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Along the singing wind,  narrating stories to its attentive as to its wayward. Across the weeping rivers,  as they bemoan all that the mountains amass.  As whispers in the tresses,  pulled back and behind memory’s ears.  Careening glances still holding sway endearing the breeze to stay. “Awhile, and hear ye.” Cajoling the senses,  like a …

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Quantum aside

You found heaven for me. The gates concealed as they were, to my existence until the point of you in revelation. Now, sight itself wears me in its vernacular, and wonder wrapping the formless to every shape and size to my cognition. You put me together as if strewn prior to your perception. The sheen …

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Words can best become hymns. But every so often they resist. Instead they fall into self glorification. Like a siren and its distance, as morning in a song serenading the dusk. The dawning of the sun rendering all travails and tempests of the moon rested. The tides of time encapsulated in a smile, yet and …

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Sent excerpt

Excerpt from ‘Sent’ in ‘Arthāt – Mystic Poetry’. For more like this and the complete collection, buy the book.
Ebook is for a dollar for most of August at several places.

Birds of meaning

A bird of flight flew past a view of the waters across open space. A sound fluttered a rhythm until a twine became melodious. Undeterred by its own discerning, its right wing flapped a lingering primordial sound. Then almost as if reaching further, the left wing lifted a notion of its own to match. As …

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To Twine,
The road upon, treading the familiar.
Footsteps traced along an ancient tune, but a newer path becoming yet to emerge.


A kind of clarity, and strength that makes the doable acts reverb through the fabric that usually just simpers to even our greater twines.


A kind of clarity, and strength that makes the doable acts reverb through the fabric that usually just simpers to even our greater twines.

Hymn of her

The glorious mention,
mine humility your grace.

The meeting of the old gods.
The understanding of the new ones.
The richness of form in thy adorn.


The majesty of aesthetic, the depth of perception that diffuses cognition from its very mention. A multi-dimension splendour for the senses toured to the hearts’ render.

Yet this surface of inspiration passes through fissions of existence and mechanisms of mere eccentricities.

Say nothing and say it all, the privilege of emotion that animates yonder into a smile of inner rectitudes.