Living under a hood
With room to be misunderstood
Watched over by a benign blue
The sages of yore found so true
The modern eye rarely looks at that hue
When there are infinite other shades to pursue
Wealth of another kind that’s untrue
Poisoning the passions of a man of virtue
That space hidden behind a soft lid
Isn’t just a blank grid
The power to assume
Spells inner doom
Men of a different age
Now comfortably tucked backstage
When they held sway
Building brick and stone wonders was the way
Blue blooded minds of bygone age
Erected stone edifices paid with a slave’s wage
Whose pyramidion only pointed to the top
Unafraid of hands of death planning a new crop
The destructive power of this ever present brute
Contrasts with the artistic flavor passed down the chute
The seven wonders of the world are prized
Not just for their size
Grandeur chiseled by tireless fingers
Not driven by a goal of numbers
Fulfilling a Pharaoh's dream
A death defying scheme
Not lost on the men who toiled
Whose escape was also foiled
Arc of the sun cutting a line in the sand
Setting the scene for the last stand
In that broiling desert
High hopes of hitting pay dirt
To put the mind at ease
Even as bodies fought the ravages of disease
A problem also marked by a modern clock
Crafted from that same ageless rock
The only witness to this transitory lot
Seeking liberation from the firmament of thought
Snaking like the great wall of the Orient
Preventing eyes from peering into the occident
The brush of duality always leaves a stain
Wiping out the purity of the humane
A tower that leans may one day fall
Towards a world that promises to enthrall
Fictitious are its sops
Making one waste precious nectar drops
Which may have fed the fabled garden
Where every leaf may have had the power to pardon
The mind’s ignorance of the immortal
Leads it to a futile battle
Where pilfered pride is not easily forgotten
Anger is the only son that is begotten
Keeping windows to the world open always
Waiting for the renter who faithfully pays
Five lighthouses steering ships into the bay
In a concerted effort to purvey
Silos of happiness draining fast
No matter how much wealth is amassed
Shoveled into mausoleums fit for a king
A loss that never fails to sting
Not for one who watches that space
Without any promise of an embrace
Lurking in the darkness beyond the light
The mind helplessly consumed by desires burning bright
Its affluent refuge readily sought
Without fear of a binding knot
The three guards who never sleep in the dark
Only let the most resilient embark
On a journey further into that space
Where winning isn’t decided in a race
The sleeping Goddess will not stir
Even with copious amounts of burning myrrh
An altar that is suitable for prayer
Is found with every true heir
The locks are three
Keys seem to be many
Simplicity is the only true grace
As one approaches that space
We’ve climbed down a double helix stairway
And destined to leave via another doorway
The tunnel leading out may be dark
Eventually one may see the divine spark
Blind fish we are in the deep dark ocean
Living on a diet of vagrant emotion
Oblivious to the freedom above
Trapped under chains of conditioned love
The right to soar in that space
Isn’t privy to just one race
Beyond the shallow depth of skin
Everyone is like a twin
Few have patience to sit waiting for the door to open
Weeds of boredom feign an ominous omen
The space under the blue dome has the power to distract
Leaving the mind no option but to transact
In good and evil, joy and sorrow
Always hoping for a better tomorrow
Lines that divide time are fictitious as a ghost
Sadly an abstract notion to most
That space behind drawn curtains
Scarcely has room for our trivial burdens
Futile as bringing seeds to a forest
It is best to enjoy life as a carefree tourist
Day or night matters little
To those soaked in a divine drizzle
Not for those taken in by this temporary nest
Unwilling to seek a higher quest
Space littered with rock
Is run by a finite clock
There isn’t an answer to be found there
Why does the infinite seem so unfair?
Not for those who watch that space
Without a dreamy eyed face
The power to break walls with a steady gaze
Comes into that space when blessed by infinite grace- N. Seshadri
