The winds wandered aimlessly
They explored the directions like the finger of a shy girl tracing her lover.
A single breath of the breeze kissed the sapling.
Life had now touched it
In sudden joy the sapling burst forth like a cascade ripping up suddenly.
The eye of the cosmos blinked once
and the sapling was an immense tree.
The tree now stood silently,
a physical form of the Pranavam.
The trunk blazed like raging fire.
Its roots shot through the universe
like a million dark venomous serpents.
Its branches convoluted in myriad shapes.
It leaves were ever wilting.
It stood there like an inexplicable mystery.
A form that deceived and ensnared.
A single branch of the tree stretched perilously.
Like Cupid's arrow it darted and plunged into the eyes of the cosmos and the artist.
In that moment of pain, the eye of the cosmos touched the many eyes of the artist.
The first touch of a chance encounter
The first touch of placid innocence.
The first touch of naive union.
A spark was born
A spark of pure knowledge; of consciouness
The unbound winds carried the spark to the topmost branch of the tree.
The spark rested there like a pole star.
The eyes waited in anticipation, in desire
In a sudden moment of truth, the spark blossomed into a flower.