Poem 02/2024
How often do we get to look at Life
eye-to-eye? Aren't we ever evasive?
Unprepared, we are handed the fait accompli.
Fire-fighting comes naturally to us;
there is no bigger challenge than
to survive the blind turns and to wither
the thuds along rugged paths.
In the rarefied air of damp mornings
as I lay staring blankly at the blistered
ceiling and the entangled cobwebs,
I am tempted, as if by premonition,
to dive into the fathoms of my identity.
Am I what I seem to be?
Or, am I a nebulous idea,
mired in self-doubt, myth
and fantasy?
Our consciousness restlessly taunts
the coalesced lump of experiences
that makes up what we are.
What is the real ‘me' (and you)?
A virtual identity couched in an illusory
shell of form and feelings!
Or, a spark of consciousness
hibernating to unite with the Supreme?
When the Ultimate is straitjacketed
in subjective imagery and submerged
in fragmented narratives,
my nagging search for
the Self and the Supreme
would reverberate and melt
into eternity, unanswered!
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