Chitra and Gupta


Chitra and Gupta

Just a perfume of power
Floats up
To the sacred window, eerily,
Yet so sweetly,
Infiltrating kingdoms in the guise
Of unruly flowers, red,
Extravagant, disarming,
A trojan horse within each bloom
A whim on a whimsy, a holy ghost,
A golden ticket
Out of Hell, (Both state and place);
An infinity pass,
Why would one denigrate oneself
In a deal with the Universe’s original grifter;
To go back? To defy?
A blossom,
A song whose melody
Intervenes and haunts
Throughout the salvationist fandango;
Sipping from the bottomless well,
Whose water transubstantiates into a miraculous wine,
A wondrous, preternatural operetta,
In the crystal, cool breeze and sweet forest fountain
As charms for their collective molecules,
Light is God,
Heat, warmth and temperature are God,
Molecules are God,
Atoms, the glue between atoms,
And the Chitra and Gupta raging in God,
All universes imaginable and unimaginable are God,
Without God
There is nothing,
A barren emptiness that doesn’t exist,
A suffocating, breathless vacuum,
A desperate scream that has no sound,
No distance,
No life, no force, no surrender,
Perpetually muted blackness,
Nothingness that can never be real
Because once observed to be nothing,
Is no longer nothing, but “not nothing”
That requires an observer who is “not nothing”
Necessitating the concept that there is never nothing,
Never was nothing, and never can be nothing,
All laws, principles and elegant equations
That exist in existence
Eventually boil down to one truth,
True love is no joke,
God is not nothing,
Oblivion an impossibility,
God is real.

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