I worship the god whose name is OUM.
Seating in the heart; but infinite miles apart.
Called as merciful but punishes in hell.
All the books tried well but he is in the shell.
The heart is the shell.
No way to understand him but to beg him,
Me: he the god.
Myself: he is what?
Me: Is not the book.
Myself: I know what he is not.
Me: He has no definition.
Myself: Nor an individual has.
Me: He is individual and you are part of group.
He is doer in you and “I” in your every sentence.
Myself: Then why am I? …If I am nothing…
Me: Ask yourself if you are something!
Myself: He is imagination.
Me: You are in dream.
Myself: Ok I m nothing. But you do remember… who “I” is.
Me: 🙂 😦
Myself: 🙂 😦