Krishna passed that mountain many times;

nasty jumpy upandown thingiesI’ll like to hit you out of court with a boing…, like Martina Hinghisand as for Fart Button,what sort of a site is this to have that crudely put on?

on the highways and skyways,death by faceless peoplewho said they are warriors.They are not warriors.Whose cause is being served?Certainly not the cause of God,not the cause of Allah,because it is God Almightywho gives lifeand is full of mercy.How much blood must be spilled?How many tears shall we cry?How many mothers’ hearts must be maimed? ‘

yesterday, black present filled the mind;today, not even light on blackness..a day not on the calendar;an empty diary entry;faith smaller than a mustard seed;hope an untilled field.This is what a present withno future feels like;the mercy onlythat there is a present;among the closest, the rumourof a promise so etherealit has no shape or formto build…

these rather fine elements togetherstart at the bottom, earth, water…I gave it a provisional name,Material Under Declassificationor MUD for short; left it around.Not much happened.Then children discovered it, loved it.Not much progress. SoI added fire. Easy-peasy; hot countryI’d chosen for the lab. Time laterfor those colder Northern hearts.Yes. Had wait a fair mantime; butit passed…

knowing a world of tears and smiles –yet, which before? which after?your answer, friend, is blowing notin winds of time nor gain nor loss;but from a heart that’s not forgotwhere tear meets smile upon the Cross.

to ignore the cameras!