Jumping from thought to thought, each a bubble
With scarcely any fear of a stumble
Some amongst them
Command others to stand as a stem
To fuel unrelenting growth
Sourcing energy from both
Body and mind
That the senses have intertwined
Into a fabric that’s worn
With age, much of it is shorn
Playing host to light and dark memory clouds
That cannot keep out unrelenting crowds
Of thought, waiting for the little master to sing
Who expects them to wring
The last drop of joy
From every lifeless toy
The space between clouds
Having depth with no bounds
It's a grand vision when the sky is emptied
Even the high cirrus clouds will need to be buried
Steps aren’t to be found in that remoteness
For there isn’t a defined address
The mind finds hard to grasp
When limited by a sensory clasp
Seekers imagine the higher as a silhouette eyes recognize
For we want to actualize
Every thought into a tangible form
They will have to conform
As successive waves of the subconscious ocean
A source of much of the commotion
Amongst the surface dwellers
Who aren’t trained to be divers
Neither high nor low
Progress is assured, even if slow
When feet tread land
The destination is pointed out by a helpful hand
Cloud worshippers we have become
When the depth is unknown it's easy to succumb
Thought can only relate to another of its kind
No fear of its shortage in the mind
The unreachable becomes the exalted
If more than one agree it can never be faulted
A hierarchy has long been set
Not conforming may make one regret
Is the word that fills the silence
From those who have sworn allegiance
Well defined paths passed down the ages
That are nothing more than invisible cages
Hopping from one to another
One drifts apart even further
From the space in between the cloud
Of one thought and another, casting a shroud
On an easy walk to emancipation
That has become an unreachable station
Why? When it is just a step away
That leap would have to be made one day
Why not now? When a glimpse is given
An opportune moment when thought may be forgiven
Following its own nature
Some of them rise to be become a preacher
Claiming to live in a distant heaven
A belief that can never be proven
Creating worlds that are far apart
Pulling at the strings of one heart
Every thought wants to be a parachute
But none can be a substitute
For the safety of living under a thought free canopy
Away from a make believe panoply
The sky rests high above the clouds
Unreachable by those dark grey crowds
The deluge falls down and doesn’t rise up
Never can it fill that great empty cup
Resting in the space between clouds of many shades
It is neither the heaven nor hades
But consciousness reveling in its own bliss
Without any need to reminisce
- N. Seshadri
