With anklets ajingle for my psychic black bee,
Who are You that keeps on calling?
You keep on calling in flute's melody.
I cannot fail to listen...
Dam-bursting is this implication;
I respond, mental petals naked.
I have no other work, just that myself You are calling!
Is there not somebody else in a world without me?
When You want, take me with; dress me to Your liking;
Dress me in Your container of beauty.
Any passion or devotion, any wind or pollen,
Mixed with tune and beat, remaining cadence of my music,
You went and strewed upon the earth whatever may be this,
Having caught the form beyond form, ideation-filled.
Who are You that keeps on calling?
You keep on calling in flute's melody.
I cannot fail to listen...
Dam-bursting is this implication;
I respond, mental petals naked.
I have no other work, just that myself You are calling!
Is there not somebody else in a world without me?
When You want, take me with; dress me to Your liking;
Dress me in Your container of beauty.
Any passion or devotion, any wind or pollen,
Mixed with tune and beat, remaining cadence of my music,
You went and strewed upon the earth whatever may be this,
Having caught the form beyond form, ideation-filled.
Sarkarverse article
Audio recording
Finished is my journey. Now that You are calling, I have no other duty.
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