Sunday, August 30, 2015

The blueprint

Coming alive in a holographic reality
Few things are a certainty
Trying to appease the seen and the unseen
The mind fails to come clean

When groomed as a divisive ruler
It can become a conceited double dealer
Creating a ruinous projection of the macrocosm
While enriching its own make believe microcosm

Separated from the great silence
By an invisible wall of Hadrian, that keeps out violence
Emanating from a thought ridden enclave
That can easily enslave

Sight is limited to the low
Which the mind is eager to know
Becoming a distracted power
Shunning its true home high in the tower

The journey's up a windy road
It’s impossible to take along mind’s heavy load
Up the final steps
Where the safe rests

In which the blueprint is locked away
Far beyond the double helix, a microscope may display
But it is only a remnant
A clue to its vast extent

To be chosen to partake in this projection
We must have passed rigorous selection
Forgetting that hard earned cap
Many fall into a self made trap

Where life revolves around the mundane
Aiming for anymore becomes hard to attain
Everyone is allocated finite revolutions
Its never too late to make resolutions

They are best made when thoughts fall asleep
Then the climb won’t be as steep
To the vault where the blueprint is stored
It may reveal the earth as a gameboard

With pawns and kings
Both fighting for things
Each considers them as their own
Forgetting the game is on loan

Engrossed on the moves below
Always hoping for wealth to grow
Pushing the game to the edge
Ignoring the long forgotten inner pledge

Every beginner must take
To shun vice that promises to slake
Mind’s thirst, but leaves it even more dry
There is a way out through the inner sky

Not many look up and enquire how
That can only be done in the now
Changing colors doesn’t mean the inner light flickers
The sky doesn’t fully open as long as thought recurs

Light in the mind may seem brighter
And doors that open lighter
Running back to that storehouse for an answer
Makes one a borrower

Of ideas that seem fresh and new
But it takes one to the back of the queue
To look above, a special lens is required
If it were only that easily acquired

Science and philosophy would be happily married
Their past differences deeply buried
Both are after an explanation
They are yet to agree on a common dissertation

The blueprint is the same
It’s secret may be had when the mind is tame
When it flickers at the slightest doubt
It is faced with an inner drought

Changing as we do
Doesn’t make it any less true
If it’s workings were under one's hand
It would forever change the current stand

Leapfrogging over the known
Embracing the challenge of divining the unknown
Compassion would then be commonplace
The downtrodden would be treated with care and grace

The blueprint has it all
If one can get past that wall
For those who have already made it
Humility becomes their divine writ

What they offer is a rope
To the forlorn it may be the only hope
Tired of the pursuit
That finally shows its false repute

Yet to reach billions of pots
Milling around like random dots
Seeking the fullness of external perfection
Forgetting in everyone there is the same inner reflection

Of that divine blueprint
An ancient imprint
Preceding the dawn of mankind
Those plans have long been signed

  • N. Seshadri