Following is a beautiful piece of writing by Kritagya !
Hope you will all love it.
People claim they love because there is a why but that is a sheltering lie.
Attachment must first grow into a vital place, a cancer in any type of tissue before reasons that fit are adopted.
Because there must be reasons.
They are the autopsy.
Start the witch hunt, stone the heretics, pray to God.
Don’t believe just what is understood: that it can only happen if the idea clings, grows within the insulating shadow of imagination, fertile with logic, a seed latching to the crimson lining of the mind.
I want to be a substance not like glass or water, letting through, reflecting based on when it is right, not how little or how much light.
Please, do not understand.
Reason, break off painful as a finger to mesh again with the same stump on the same hand.
So many numb fingers I wonder if they will heal properly, are they supposed to heal properly, are they supposed to heal?
If there is no answer it’s unforgivable to ponder or even to ask.
Pondering, swallow the rich cream of the cosmos but don’t be satisfied.
Be the hemisphere blisters created by cheap new shoes.
Be the moss-green chicken coming alive again in the belly of the refrigerator. Asking, surprise me the Wythe molten dart of oil fastens to the cool of my arm from the hot of the pan.
Be the sudden angling of my toe against a table leg in the dark.
Be the non-hesitation in the kick and rotating steel teeth of the chainsaw versus everything.
This is what I have to say if God is everywhere: If I have nowhere to go but how I am, tracing the designs of my mind with words that can’t mean exactly and are constantly arriving, never here, if my life is the process of encasing myself in a bubble, a capsule of not white noise but of colorless silence, if the one way I can escape is by diving into the dimness of dreams arcing briefly as lightning, God, reason, will simply be the wayward idea of a journey.
God will be nowhere at all.