Bequeathed Treasure

Life is like walking on a knife’s edge, I might fall off on either side. So what if you fall off.
I’d rather be doing something I really wanted to do.

Georgia O’Keefe

Art: Jeff Simpson

image

Consumed.
Moved.
Despite the activities
Forming in surviving,

The source dominates.
Extracting splendour
In the middle of the fury.

Knowing it’s temporary.
Finding the sanctuary.

Free.

Fulfilling the dream
Outside the realm
Of vocation or time.

Silenced.
Whole.
Brought to the precipice

Falling to be caught
In a wind unseen.
Taking me where I’ve never been.

If today was my last,
No morrow to gaze upon the golden one,
Satiate this soul
With marvels to behold.

I hold my life
Closer than close.
Every aspect of the opening
Of this happening.

A prose,
A part,
A small gesture,

To bring forth,
To place in the forefront,
To pay attention.

Fire and water,
Darkness and light,
Earth and sky,

Seed planted,
Universe granted.

My reach is beyond
This temporal casing.
No longer boxed in.

Madman maybe,
Lunatic indeed.

Pull and push
Of the tidal seas,

Partaking of this orchestration
Of a jubilant celebration.

Devouring the small meager identity
To have the means
To kiss infinity.

Voracious appetite.
Fiery tempestuous life.

Ignite and shine as bright
As can be.

Magnificent bestowing
Of a gift at the center

Of every human being
In keeping,

With the vault of treasures
Overflowing.

Richness,
Wealth,
Generously gifted.

Then this thirst
Placed on the highest throne,
For it alone
Leads me home.

If I died today,
Tomorrow you might cry,

A week from now wondering why.
And before you know it

Erased like a sandcastle
On the beach.

Take hold.
Take the universe.
Take this opportunity
To fulfill the highest aspiration.

The dearest
Needs only your acknowledgement.
Breaking open all the barriers,
Rendered defenseless.

For it must fulfill
This longing
Born from diving
In the depths

Where the essence
Of the heart is kept.

Then the jewels
From tears of gratitude wept,

Can fully adorn each moment
As the worthiest breath.

Atul Ranchod

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