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December 7, 2010

You can pick this body
Put it in a moving plane
Dump it in the palaces of gold
and yet be locked
in the ignorance running in your breaths

You can stand strong in the freezing Antartic
Or sweat in the heat of the miraged deserts
Neither will help you break the prisons
Of your breath.

Young traveller,using your eyes,senses to know, learn
Locked inside this body.

This body will grow old,
This mind will wither,
And you will hold on, to things that make it look,
As it was in youth.
Lies again.

dearest Traveller,
Where do you travel?
Where do you move?
Unknown to yourself?

Travelling is –

When you sit inside your self
And travel the universes in your breath
Feeling the freedom,
Crossing the boundaries of your body.


Do not fool yourself,
With the movements outside.

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