Weave your experience, to script the beautiful future,
Let the strings play, In harmony with your past,
Simple and Astounding, Lovable and Adorable,
Memorable and pleasurable, Like a painting on the wall,
With Reflections of passions, and Impatience of Success,
But with a touch of candor, and softness of persistence,
When you know you have, the morning has arrived,
Strike the right chord, It is the Truth of Touch!
As I listen to this amazing album of Yanni, my heart just floats in the air and I feel as if I am boundless !!
Follow your Heart
Let your heart go where it wants
Let not your rigidity haunt.
Winner is the one who inspite of fear does not daunts,
Take the control and empower you to write your own script and font.
Listen to the music within you
Respond to the artist who is playing the flute.
It might happen that it gets too late,
When you have nothing to do other than so submit to your fate.
The one who can make you sing a song,
He is the one where you belong.
So let loose yourself and do wat make you cheer,
Remove your heart from all kinds of useless fear !!
The Escapism
Sure the world is large enough,
So I became the castle,
But the voices followed everywhere…
Sure the world is large enough
So I became the forest,
And she blossomed in every tree…
Sure the world is large enough,
So I became the mountain,
But it could not stop feeling the wind…
Sure the world is large enough,
So I became the sea,
And the tides longed for her….
Sure the world is large enough,
So I became the cloud,
But it could hear the whisper of rainbow….
Sure the world is large enough,
So I became the star,
And it could not stop twinkle…
Sure the world is large enough,
So I hid myself in a pebble,
But the mud etched her memory…
Sure the world is large enough,
So I went into the womb of solitude,
Only to find her again…
My Dream
Dream weaves like a music in my life,
My ‘Self’ rises in its aspiration,
The burning desire causes its precipitation.
Like a formless cloud it starts engulfing me,
I start sailing along, with the hope it will find its home,
When it will rain to spread the greenery all around.
But it will have to pass the muster of Sun’s heat,
Where it can burst during its incubation,
In its peregrenation, only to form another formless cloud.
Its end will it achieve one day,
The rainbow will be born,
My Pride, My sweat, My chef-d’oeuvre.
Keys to Imagination....
Empowering Leaders 300 Words at a Time
O'Santorini 