Poetry

When the dawn of Usha, the wedding of night and day.
I wake up to face the Sun.
Flow Yoga, a Surya Namaskar,
Prana in all my nadis.
I worship the orbs of space and time.
My life, in the manifest and unmanifest.
Imaginary in science fiction and real in the relative.
I pray to the wormhole aliens,
And walk with the prophets,
May an Indian guide, lead me back,
To the spiritual land,
Where the cups brim with the yogurt,
Of both wealth and knowledge,
And the pitcher overflows with the milk of compassion,
Where animals live in peace.
And the world is pristine.