A black canvas mounted in the dark
In a mythical land of the unseen
The paint brushes are the eyes
As colors come alive in the mind
Flowers hide the field that bears them
As brushstrokes of the wind guide their dancing smile
Sunlight skies are painted at night
With etchings of the stars, erased at dawn
On a perfect day, the elements are at play
A perfect night is an invisible sign
Seen only in the mythical land
A nameless realm that bears us all
Thoughts spark from an invisible fire
A fire that cools the heart and mind
An experience embedded deep within
The spring of life that washes the world
Mass and weight are relative things
The weight of the mind can be measured in full
In the mythical land, the scales are twins
Differing only in the names we give
Steam is hot but the clouds are cool
In the mythical land, the opposite is true
Clouds on the ground make it hard for the eyes to see
On a dark night, they take the color of the sky
Freedom has a price in the world around
The price we pay is the movement of time
In the mythical land, there isn’t a sun
That marks a line between day and night
Where is this land we speak of then?
The mind has signs without direction
A step into a promised land is what we seek
Does it come to us if we don’t seek it then?
A question carries a curve and a line
It hinges on a dot that can turn it around
When endless questions provide no answers
The seeker loses the only guide he has
A sign from the mythical land may not be much
Hidden in everyday life, we dismiss as such
Every action of ours leaves a trail
Taking one away from this land of grace
Action is a needed guest in the house of life
Coming alive both with laughter and pain
The doors we lock night after night
Carry another lock that opens to the mythical land
Science is right after many a wrong
The mind says its right, denying a single wrong
Conflicts abound with worldly sight
A state at odds with the mythical land
War and peace are antipodal twins
Living in the mind, they become difficult to bear
When cast into the world, thoughts extend their grip
A trumped-up respite before the storm to come
In the mythical land it is the other way around
Where everything is an orderly show
Weak become strong, meek turn brave
And the battle of facts is never a thought
To travel afar to see a spectacle
Is worthless unless it is the journey of life
A view of life forgotten at birth
Seen as a fleeting glimpse at life’s end
Humans to come are mythical beings
Where are they as they wait their turn?
The land we seek, perhaps is where they laid their stake
These paths cross in the whispering mist at dawn and dusk
In a voyage costing a treasure of gold
Accompanying the rich would not be the poor
Passage to the mythical land requires no such wealth
Peace of mind is all it takes
In a land of the rising and setting sun
Kings and queens command their mortal coils
Serving an emperor who they cannot see
In a mythical land, such rules would never be found
A mythical land with no beginning or end
Endless shores on which everything flows
Where earthly fears melt away
A visit by the mind shows only a fraction of the way
Thoughts are pebbles that bridge a gap
The waters they part also wears them down
Grains of sand form a beach by the sea
Providing a shoreline view of an endless gulf
It is sand that lines the bed of the sea
Thoughts are made in the deepest depths
When they return to mind’s abyss
A vision of peace rises to the top
A thoughtless experiment seems hard at first
When seeds of the mind finally turn to dust
The mythical land welcomes that smudge
Leaving dusty steps through the archway of the mind
