How brutal would it be,
to draw a line in the air on something
of interest, with your eyes:
to be in awe of the subdued parallax
and then simply call it beautiful.
Won’t your fingers itch before doing so?
Won’t they feel the need to caress the surface
before labeling its existence beyond question?
Won’t your tongue go dry of thirst
seeing its colors untasted and unspilled.
Do you really love,
symmetry to this extent?
You forgot the chaos
you were born in.
© Shashank Bhardwaj
Writings to Heaven 
The internal chaos and quest for symmetry!❤️ Bang on poetry🌼
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The abhorrence for symmetry, the love for chaos. ❤️
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All chaos are symmetry but not all symmetry are chaos. Hence all chaos are love but all symmetries aren’t❤️
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A Chaos is a symmetry unafraid of love. 💞
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No one is afraid of love. We are afraid of it being staying❤️
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Or Afraid of not staying in it. 🙂
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Fluctuations and love go hand in hand
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Love floats of the waves of hope, did I told you tsunami never makes a noise?
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Love resides in faith. It tells you all that is, is here then why hope that one day it will reach us? It’s in the moment. It’s in the destruction. And maybe Tsunami is nothing but the wild love making of sea with the land breaking societal norms apart, silently ❤️
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Silent Destruction is never good. I feel.
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Perhaps! Who knows. I am silently destroying and it feel good🌼
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