some feeling, some faith

i am young, i am old
i am new, fresh, untold.
i am wise, i am naive
it is on faith, that i thrive

i am young, i am old
i am new, fresh, untold.
i am wise, i am naive
it is on faith, that i thrive.

when it seems i am tormented
actually i am fermented.
for my sake? i do not know –
to be a channel pure, i know.

may each pain enable me
to shed my skins with thankful glee.
through my changing forms i go –
changeless, eternal, me to know.

~ vani murarka

to be me

i wish to be a butterfly.

i wish to ride the bare back horse
on vast and open greens –
wind blowing in my hair.

i wish the crackling fire beside,
below night sky –
a distant drum in the air.

i wish to be a butterfly.

i wish to ride the bare back horse
on vast and open greens –
wind blowing in my hair.

i wish the crackling fire beside,
below night sky –
a distant drum in the air.

the shimmering water of the stream
the silent singing night
the shadows of the trees alive
now that the trees sleep tight

i wish to touch.
yes the true touch.
hesitant, but
not very much.

the mud, the earth,
the bark, the skin,
the ripples, and the glow.
Her surface varied such!

the touch that tells
of inside spells –
a song hidden
under the skin.

i wish to smell
Her inside smell –
where i do find
that i do dwell.

to tribal be
to animal be
in earth rejoice –
to simply be.

i wish …

~ vani murarka

song of evening solitude

under the flame of the forest
silent and empty i wait.

unfathomed hues
and deepest blues
do touch the sky
and glide on by.

under the flame of the forest
silent and empty i wait.

unfathomed hues
and deepest blues
do touch the sky
and glide on by.

and i just listen
to them glisten.

my heart they strum
no beat no drum
no song no hum
just simply mum.

i dont touch them
they touch not me.
i am in glee
with my friend tree.

~ vani murarka

My Friend Tree