Sunday, September 20, 2015

Lunar scalpel

The rise and fall of tides
Is something the moon provides
Whipping up of the oceans
Is reflected in our emotions

Waxing and waning of the moon
Is a great boon
Not just to the sailors out at sea
But to those who seek the inner guarantee

Fullness and emptiness
Together provide unique awareness
Rise and fall of mind’s energy
Are both required for the remedy

From the affliction of desires
A condition that never expires
Like the seas that obey
Mind gives into passion’s way

Consistent over the ages
Is the advice of the sages
Kind hearted folk
Who implore us to revoke

A contract with desire
Which belongs to an ever expanding empire
Like countless drops in an ocean
It encompasses an infinite array of emotion

Bobbing on this recurrent wave
That only the resolute can brave
It’s a journey that’s a never ending circle
Enticed into it by thoughts that sparkle

Auditioning on the surface
Adorned by the mind as a necklace
Forgetting that inner gold is the basis
Seeking to make the world its oasis

Finding true solace there
Is exceedingly rare
There are many shades of happiness
All contingent on togetherness

Whether we like it or not
The world’s our vacation spot
With a setting that couldn’t be grander
Going unnoticed as we continuously hanker

For ever more
Before we are shown the door
There are only so many blue moons to witness
Before the body will lie listless

That should be a call to action
And not to evoke a sad emotion
That’s desire’s way of getting back
When it remains on an unsold rack

Our closest neighbor may be a desolate land
But it surely has a hand
Known to those who follow its many faces
In their search for hard to find traces

They know where to look
Hardly enticed by desire’s promise of a pleasant nook
Taking advantage of the moon’s dark face
Fearless and enthusiastic in their chase

Plunging within into the greatest mystery
That has not made it to recorded history
Only through dashing desires’ unfulfilled hopes
Can they slay life’s suffocating ropes

That try to lasso everything in sight
Unafraid of this ever weakening might
The deep stillness doesn’t change
Which the worldly rope has managed to estrange

The full face of the moon
Difficult to see at high noon
When sun drenched toys
Command our attention with their noise

It is that lunar phase
During which our energies may raise
To a fervent pitch
Escaping desire’s resolute grip that has kept us in a ditch

Providing rocket fuel for the flight within
For heaven may be found under our very own skin
The many faces of the moon
Silently strive to help us attune

Only through the fall of desire
One may rise higher
There are plenty of open spots
In the space between thoughts

Which are neatly packed vehicles of disorder
Thoughts aren’t a safe harbor
The lunar scalpel helps carve a route
Back to that heavenly spout

  • N. Seshadri