Eyes 👀 Spy : Questioning Who am I ? The Sun, The Monk and The Moon, 🙃😌😇🥶The Hunt?!

In the hush of the star-forged wilds,

A bow of moon-beam, and an arrow, hunts the vesper milds

There, the cradled time, arching in the haloes, dwell alongside …

At which , the oceanic nocturnals, round up to inquire : Who am I?!

Do I —serve the rumors of every other desire—dripping over forever, fraughting over pyres ?

Nay, not really.

My quiver is empty

My heartbeat a drum;

I trade it for silence,

I trade it for ONE ☝️

One moment here,

The other gone

It’s time for adieus

For my work here is done

Yes, I’m stilled in the being—

only to become,

That ONE in meaning,

not veiled over anon

A fathom whose provenance parades to ascend,

I transcend!

My voice surges

unhampered,

just like a hummingbird’s hum;

And with all those subtleties,

—all gently rumbling a hum,

Here comes— tenacity—taking its turn.

That which resides in the origin’s hunt,

That which —infinity—much like eternity, mixes up as—ONE,

And for this living harbored in either-or, and with all those mortals— so v’ry summed…

Nothing else remains in so far distance,

That which the inner realms’, haven’t really learnt.

Like making “endless” go on a fourth run, with the fifth seeded over every other front !

O! Dare I say—venturesome;

What’s more certain than: “cogito -ergo-sum,”

And, this is, all there is, to really comprehend

For everything and anything which comes out in substance,

Can actually be a sum of “posit positum.”

O! Look! There’s a sojourn,

In it —dwells, the knowns, unknowns, grown and outgrown

Such and so is plentitude,

that —which must be seen as in gratitude,

Surely, a must to be seen in magnitude,

But, alongside the efforts which mark beyond servitude

O! Look!

There’s a luminaire spreading such a mysterious chace,

O! Those fractals exploding much like those crystalline shapes

There go—a thousand selves, sprinting across, like a gallantry, tossed over cosmic face

And down those corridors, tracing the haze,

There’s this —“me,” all seeking, most unusually, that heavenly grace !

I am the arrow, the bird, the drum

the hunter, the hunted,

and the reason why—

The skies are high,

and therein, most relentlessly, to overcome this illusion

called LIFE and Who am I !

Oh! Let me not worry ,whimper nor sigh on this silly thing called I …

O! Precious Life!

Ah! fleeting hope, flittering fire

Is thou oafish as a quenchless briar

Thirsty, perhaps, for long, so mired

Yet, in every nature spread so to inspire

That you must behold that entire desire-

Within which renews hope thro' heartless quagmire

As grating gropes over gurgling gyres

Ebbing in flow as some embodied empire

Unto that, bellying long, those flown off spires

As clustered congeries over cloistered choirs

O! Must you lie bare upon death beds so expired

Seemingly dropping a thousand dirges over deathly pyres

But, for the spirited souls thickened by dire

It's all an illusion which they pledge not to ever acquire!

For the flesh so camped in rubies and lodged sapphires

When post -personified, it waves its final flags as in an esquire;

Finally bidding adieus to everything that coexists to equally transpire

! O Precious Life !

Co-concurring off the hook, as though on a timely spire...

How upon innocence you gently conspire

As faith so ardent rolls its' own ardent hope —so dire

© I Madhu Goteti, October 31st, 2025

Witches go beyond … The Moon !

Happy Halloween 🎃