The sky is heavy with rain.

and from a desert place, Mount Sinai;where he was famed for ‘breathing Jesus’(there’s something in me says,that’s quieter than the pulpit..)and thus, talked little..but he said (and this they wrote down,preserved, passed on, quoted, marvelled,sought to practise; succeeded.. or ever, failed? …‘One who watches carefully over the heartwill quickly see, how the heartof its own…

and deep down they hateall human beings, and hate themselves…those who would impose their ‘righteousness’upon their fellow men…but the God who’s mercifully beyond all namesmust look down in stunned incomprehensionwhen the faithful make division in their faith…Catholics and Protestants, Sunnis and Shias…for perhaps this is the greatest crime of allagainst God: and if so, the…

and takes matters intoit own electric energies,its cyber wisdom that knowsonly nought and one..and who wants to hear a poemabout ‘my’ lonelinessas if writing about it will dump it all on youand I can get on with my lifebut oneliness ah that’s somethingI don’t even need to write a poem aboutI only need to say…

The world turns round with awesome force, and tilts;its axis, lawful – merciful or cruel –spins silently its thread which weaves our livesand adds a number to our earthshaped days;And here I’m much intriguedby Indian thought – if never to be proved, alas –that this same soul or self has solemnly laid downby previous actions…

among friends