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I wrote this poem when I was very ill and thought
I was going to die. I survived and have recovered.
Photo is taken from the BBC documentary on my
work on Music and Musicology. Place -Preston, UK.


Days pass by and the flowing river of life carries
infinite number of air bubbles as individual life.
Millions are forming and millions would perish
but the river of life keeps flowing forever.

My whole life is an insignificant bubble and
I think it to be my entire world where I exist.
On a larger scale of time I would exist only
a billionth of a second and then would cease to exist

And yet I think that I am going to live for ever.
What a foolish and self-centered man I have been!
I have even given a name to that insignificant life
and I call him Kris with a vanity and ignorance.

I rather wake up from this make believe world
as the tiny fragile bubble is about to burst.

Kris ~ Dreamweaver

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