Poetry : Making Love. 

Are we making love without our bodies?

Are we renouncing the fixed form

for the indefinable?

Is this what we share?

It seems so deep that it cannot make sense,

even to ourselves.

What is this middle way that belongs 

neither to passive friendship,

nor active passion. 

but a spiritual sensuality

that reveals a sacred centre?

We cannot construct form

out of this formless dimension,

only let our hearts run with the wind,

until we land in the field,

far away from all that we’ve known before.

Your presence impacts upon Sant. 

my meagre existence,

even though your hands abide in hesitation.

You leave me to wonder what this dance is all about.

Sant thinks is it Love of Forbidden Trance ?


Poetry : She helped me live my life

She helped me live my life

in another circle, that bore no reference point

had felt her presence under my cells,

and her kindness permeating my story.

I  invited her into my being

without reference to her Seeing history,

so she acted as a figure of Wiling presence, 

a pillar of support in the tremors around Living.  

She had come out of her tunnel 

and embraced me as if we were long lost lovers

even now, after all of this, i found myself 

abiding like a swan, full of plummage 

appreciating her loving manner. 

Sant is Still Thinking. 

Some Times By : Santosh Bhatt

where does this authority come from?

who shapes this configuration of sounds ?

we have made together in this meeting. 

where gentle words fall heavily upon this space.

What are these garments of words ?

That hang in the air?

what makes me think ?

I have much or little to say?

while experiencing this unwoven realm

where existence and non-existence seem irrelevant.

Sant is still Thinking. 

Yet we still love each other. 

I do not know what your experience is of a situation. 

you cannot know my experience of a situation 

I do not know what your experience is of me.

you cannot know my experience of you.

I do not know your experience of yourself.

you do not know my experience of myself.

Yet we still love each other.

By : Santosh Bhatt

Milan Laal Se : Santosh Bhatt

Laal hai meri nas nas Mai 

Laal hai meri har DhDakan Mai 

Laal hai Bhaskari Rango Mai. 

Laal hai mere Havan Mai 

Jab Mai jaaunga Akela tab hoga mujape Laal

Lapet ke unhi Laal Rango Mai 

Milan bhi hoga Laal Lal

Santosh Bhatt

Gujarati poetry Bahena.  

Maaraa Bhaag maa pan Jeno bhaag hot

Mara Badhhaa kissa ma eno kisso hot

Maari badhi vaat ma ene lai aavato Hot

Maari Baddhi yaado ma ene hu mahrato hot

Kyaarek te roti to hu pan radato hot

Ene naa malatu kaaink to hu pan Khoi naakhato hot

Ek vakhat Bhai boli ne gaal khechatu koi hot 

Hu bolu tyaare Haath khenchi ne minche Ankha koik hot

Hunj pharithi tej haatho maa muki davu Kaink Kok

Tane muki dau pharithi mara hridaya na vamahro ma Kok 

Aava swapno to mane aave chhe Aaj Tak

Ane Aankho maa thodi si Bhinaas aave Tak

Kyaarek Satavati, kyaarek Vitadati gussama Chillati

Kyaarek mane udaas joyine, Garhre tu lagavati

Kyaarek maara khaabhe mastak tu muki Roti Soti

Aapu badhu ja maaru Tane , Jo tu Hoti 

Sant vichhare su te Hoti.   …..?

Shabda Naad : Gujarati Poetry


Shabda Naad : Gujarati Poetry


Shabda e shore chhe,

Man no e More chhe

Vaage to Talvaar chhe

Utare to Jaher ane Amrut chhe

Shabd e to Brahma naad chhe

Samje tenu jivaan dhanyaa chhe

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