Home » Poems » Who am i? Why am i? Where from am i?
What is the power of a healer?
Where does it come from?
Why do you want to heal?
For what?
Is there a need to?
How are you qualified to be a healer?
Has it really made a beneficial difference to anybody?

I am a being, one of the types. Whoever, whatever.
Made of ‘intentions’
Chose to come here on earth.
Certainly to nullify pending equations
And?
Just wallow around, is it?

No.

Also here to be of use
Beneficial to the environment around.
To do good to those who are not ‘it’.
To feel humanity, deeply.
To live in such a way that goodness happens.
Spreads.

Further, ‘it’ has a deep sense of feeling and a will to ‘heal’
To use the ancient energies and powers throbbing in the universe
To use the ‘essence’, the ‘subtle’, the ‘touch’ of glory which the five senses are not used to.
To ‘heal’.

Why?

Because this path is more powerful.
Deep, since it is at the core.
The source.
For as part of it i play with it
And while playing, become the mage.
Also, there is the power and strength of ‘intention’, ‘imagination’
The brain cannot distinguish between ‘real’ and ‘imagination’
For what is real? But what i project in myriad ways
Then it is only the mage who can create
Travel with the wind and listen to the oceans
Talk to the trees
Not limited in the mortal body

The entire frame, a stage created by conditioning and sensory perceptions
I believe there is more beyond the routine which sometimes takes away the shine
There is something more beyond the rhetoric of birth and death
It is stupid to simply reel through

No.
Don’t believe in the linearity!
This after this, after this, after this?
Something is wrong with this.
It is not all.
How would it be if i didn’t think?
There would be no yesterday.
Only now
This moment.

Time is like fragments of illusions dispersed in a solution of oneness
There is no time without mind
My entire being would know only ‘now’
This moment.

I don’t enjoy the present moment, ‘now’
Past baggages, future fears and worries.
I fail to see what eyes speak
In a maze, as ephemeral as a dream
Where when i change, everything changes
The world looks pink when i wear pink glasses
Purple when i wear purple glasses
Oh! ‘i’ am the centre.
World and living are an entirely different maze for another entity
Because it is its own centre.

Then what is true?
Is there really a way to be?
Is there truly a place to be at?

So, what the hell am i doing here?
I chose.
Inner life and outer works.