A lofty mystery buries you
The mystery that leaves you no pains or pleasure
A distant orb revolves round your surroundings
All starry beauty becomes worldly delights
Yet you are wedded to your nothing self
As if you bear no resemblance to your disguise
A proud disharmony shatters your faith
You are just but a doll of fire clay in eternity
You are the helpless and hapless to your destiny
You do not know how to make cry at your god
Your mystery is a cover of your selfless soul
One day you will be denuded in your open space.

The vision of profundity resigns in glory
You stand back at the juncture of time and space
Filling your void unceremoniously for nothing
You fall at the feet of your golden stillness
Still you are the magnificent self of your own
Proclaiming your subjugation as your victory
Your mystery remains unsullied all along the way
As if you know nothing of your predicament.

Categories: Poetry [t]

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