Blind to life in space
May be the undoing of this race
The final step has been climbed
Now it’s time to wipe the grime
With so many riches and treasures
Humanity has claimed many feathers
The one that’s missing
Carries an important blessing
Lost in the midst of locust swarm
One can easily miss that form
Whether it is native or not
It is a great loss to leave that thought
Reflections throng a mental beehive
Where the queen thought must thrive
Spawning many generations
Camouflaged as life’s many stations
And demonstrate the magic of time travel
To sight weakened by light
And suffering this worldly plight
The carpet weaver silently works
While the mind shirks
Any notion of finitude
Which does not jell with its expansive attitude
A ringside seat is guaranteed
When one strives for life’s great need
The five flavors are just the crust
That has managed to corner everyone’s trust
There will be no voices from the sky
Telling otherwise before its time to bade good-bye
The carpet’s sturdy strands
Will be passed onto future hands
Its pattern is seen by the few
Those that live off the inner dew
By knowing just one strand
They handle the whole like an old hand
The drum roll is now barely a whisper
Remaining out of sight is the cosmic groundskeeper
The flowers have bloomed
All we have to do is keep them groomed
This round ball on the grand carpet
Plays host to our mental banquet
It is a feast that is hard to digest
When limited time makes us a guest
There is little to do but consume
On a fleeting journey from womb to tomb
If one doesn’t ride the carpet
To where it all started
That carpet changes colors
To match life’s happy and sad periods
It is a clever reflection
Of the weaver’s true projection
From the static to the dynamic
There is an energetic traffic
Individual buds have it in abundance
But lose it in a reluctance
To partake in that dance
A one in a lifetime chance
Wasted by the hands
That cater to desire’s hunger pangs
There is no place that’s isn't carpeted
Realized when the mind is annihilated
Guarded like a vault of gold
Even as one is dragged to the cemetery dead and cold
There is only one ticket that comes at a price
Enlightenment isn’t gambled at the roll of a dice
No need to wait for the carpet
For one has never left its orbit
In a single strand of hair
Or in a drop of the ocean’s tear
Frothy exuberance unlies life
Ruined by divisive strife
That cuts through the magic
Of the carpet whose reach is intergalactic
Sprinting even for a lifetime
One cannot climb
The mountain of realization
The carpet is its manifestation
Helping the elements
And their transient constituents
Create this sensory soup
That one wishes to consume in one scoop
That’s not what the carpet was laid out for
In this mansion without a door
No wonder our antecedents are unknown
Even as our race appears fully grown
A child amongst us may find the way
Even as adults run astray
Every sense claims the carpet as its own
Forgetting that it's magic is on loan
The truth will come when there is peace
Found in the whole, not in an isolated piece
- N. Seshadri
