In fifty thousand years there hasn't been a soul gazer as nasty as you. You lover of the innocent, the Just, you street fighter ; you the one we call BADNEWS...You great traveller, you searcher of the dust, searcher of your own God ! What do you say of this mighty thing you call the soul ?
Where does it begin, where does it end? What are its fine tips ? What are the sacred scriptures written on its pages so that clever scientists may build their equations and the searchers of the spirit roam free !
***
Your imagination,
Is a sacred sea
That exists within
With waves that dance to the moon
With waves that dance to the sun
With visions that float on its surface
Like Lions dancing, having fun.
And in its stillness
It shall lie still
Controlled by the living will.
And you will see
Between the thought & the thought
Is the calmest, stillest sea !
Between the thought & the feeling
The sacred scriptures of eternity !
And in the silent movements
Within the particle, the sphere,
That controls feeling,
Your book of God, nature & divinity !
And they say You! 
Baba Badnews !
Baba Badnews !You speak direct, yet in metaphor.
You leave us unenlightened, silly,
Mon- Amour ! Mon- Amour !
To you who call it mythical, mystical, unethical, transcendental, theological :
Is the search of the soul
So illogical ?
To you who call it mythical,
Mystical...
Surely it must be Practical.
Is it for closure,
You - the one we call badnews-
That your pen moves songs for the soul ?
You lover of the pen.
Hidden in that dark unseen den,
Called the mind,
Are there particles of closure,
For those who seek to see
Beyond Death -
The real truth a man faces -
Beyond that sweet & final breath,
Beyond Death !
And between the thought & thought,
In those sublime silent spaces,
Where life exists without faces,
Have you not fought -
You fearless soldier -
Have you not wriggled in ?
Have you not sought...
Haven't you looked at particles Beneath
Mass,
With a living honest pen,
That was brash, that was rash ?
And what have you learnt
Of this great soul -
This ancient sailor and his team -
Is he real, forever, can he be measured,
Or is he just a dream ?
And when you opened up the third eye,
What have you learnt of the day I die ?
Where shall my spirit fly ?
What have you learnt of the day I die ?
That Great & Mighty Sky !
I beg, I implore, I cry !
What have you seen of the day I die ?
In the shade of your soul,
What do your observations imply ?
For the soul surely
Is a parallel, micro cosmos.
Where being shall fall in,
Losing all body but without a loss.
And within the structure of your soul
Exists your heaven & hell !
The abyss is deep,
packed with information,
I cannot see deeper,
I cannot tell.
And like a child running out
Because of the lunch bell,
I must go, but know,
Each sphere of the soul
Has its own story to tell
You are the Anahat Chakra, the third eye,
The Sacred Sphere, The Sacred Heart,
Believe me, I'm a spiritual rebel !
And each sphere of the soul
Has its own tale to sell !
Walk with joy, Great Traveller !
Go Away ! Walk well !
To you who call it mythical, mystical, unethical...to you who call it practical, is the search for the soul so illogical, kindly tell, kindly tell...
(C) RahulUnni
#Dedicated to all the kids around the world
