How could it happen—
Silence once in a while?
It is with holding off the world.
Listening for the voice
That is not spoken.
Unvoiced, the world comes still—
As with hearing that note
The music leads to
In it’s gathering up—
Of on and off, up and down.
As with the fly, the moth, the butterfly
Setting itself still on the front porch…
Listen for the leaf, the mind,
Quivering with the internal movement
Of the universe
Okay...Orkut-ey jeta boltey parchhilam na seta holo ei je...I have paid a bit tribute to your writings (along few others' too) in this post...did you see that? How do I know if you saw that?
I hate Orkut...grrr!!!