Wrapped in the senses, subtle and sweet,
Maya invites us to bow at her feet.
Yet the one who awakens from her display
Sees through the dream—and drifts away.
Waiting for the Falling Drops
The garden is not soil alone— It is the heart I’ve always known. Each thirsty leaf, each fragile flower, Counts fading hopes hour by hour. T...
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I could not give up. There was no going back. After years of suffering— silent battles of the mind, pain resting heavily on my shoulders, ... -
In the world of fuss, nothing lasts. In the world of dreams, happiness is pursued. In the world of myths, facts are created. In the world of... -
Like the bumblebee that never stops, yet pauses gently between its flight, it carries pollen from flower to flower, helping nature bloom in ...
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