Beatitude

I'll disintegrate. Like weightless dew.
In a facile manner. Soundlessly, a clairvoyance
Odourless, colourless, blossoming.
In the bosom of dense pastures essence of my being.

If the consciousness is washed away
If perception reawakens once again.
All this frost melting away
Silvery rays of the full moon of the dark night
If love radiates

In peace am I inundated
Towards beatitude will I proceed and
Within my trodden steps
Will ring out a profusion of creation

by CHOUDHURI SUKUMAR

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