Inner music

I trust no more the speeches,
Encomiums nor the disdains of us mortals
For once and for the last time I heard
The wordless yet philosophical,
Ordered and reverberating notes
From the adorned home of my soul.
It is but the only chime that ever shall stay
With me, ever into my endless journeys into
The whole search of self and parts,
Never crossing the shallowest river of my life.
I envied and was awed at the wondrous art
Of the eternal singers, of the nature's embellished
Nightingales and cuckoos whose heartful music
Shall flow and purify my subconscious mind.
No more shall I for I found a source
More spiritual than intonations of holy mantras,
And more golden and lasting than ethereal silence.
The cries, smiles and pains of the worldly beings
Are towards me more strikingly,
Into my constructs and instincts, now.
And so teaching me unrelenting and suffuse love,
I hope that my music shall vanish before I'm
Back into the veiled and worldly world.
I trust me no more.    

Stillness ...

When the mind is still, the universe surrenders. (Buddha)
What universe?
The one we live in?
Or the one we create within us?
One is perceived and one appears to be real but distorted.
Distorted by our own senses,
Distorted by predispositions and prejudices.
When everything stands still for a fraction of a moment,
When the electrified brains completely come to an instantaneous halt,
An infinitely rather ultimate energy,
In the form of a feeling would flow into the subtler existence
And forever alter the way of perceiving, wherein the universe
Has no more self or other. They tend to unite.
And hence surrender as one gains or wins omniscience,
Though ephemerally. That is where reason ends
And what we search for lies, the ultimate truth.