Mystic Muse

A Mystic Muse
With hidden jewels of intense sorrow
that he wears joyously,
An absent- minded nobody
Who knows the art of
Making himself alone
Even among the company of
The known people, friends.
Chosen to walk on the path of gloom,
Dejection, desolation, woe & melancholy.
Yet nourishes a dreamlight.

Priceless humans are like this
They mingle in the crowd like nobody
And are always in guise.
A conch shell they create around them
The only way to find them
Is to look deep into their fused eyes...
To feel the stillness in their body language
To hear the Mystic Muse their heart sing ...
Unreachable to everyone.

Had nurtured a feeling to hear it...
Always...
Got lost or faded for sometime now
In the path of Life - a Sadhana.
Relivened again seeing him
-unchanged
And restored it.
Feeling utterly empty like a bamboo
That let the air runs through it
Fabricating a flute.