Coming from a grander space
In spite of being a make believe place
The story being told appears all too real
A compelling narrative with great appeal
Enacted on many stages
Great dramas have survived the dark ages
When forests were greener
And the air cleaner
The hidden grace has remained unchanged
Even as the worldly order has been rearranged
The occident has taken precedence
Imposing a new order of democratic gentleness
The barbaric past is not completely lost
Neighbors are yet to thaw icy frost
Threatening the peace in inner space
Such a grand disgrace
We may have forever poisoned the waters of grace
Stunting the growth of flowers from this fleshy vase
Leaving us with thorny sticks
To continue our endless conflicts
Separated and hidden by the horizon
Each one is an isolated island
The accident of birth has placed us where we are
We are celestial beings from the vantage of a distant star
Eyes are ever curious about distant sights
As we seek to scale worldly heights
With a ladder built on dreams
Of endless selfish schemes
The inner space generously expands
In the face of ever increasing demands
The cost isn’t countable by hands
Will only be known when we can laugh at our plans
No one but us may pity our plight
Conforming to known has become a rite
Hardly anyone questions the status quo
Afraid of what one may have to forgo
That inner space is treacherous no doubt
Who created that place where poisonous plants sprout?
Having grown into unmanageable forests
No one may claim to be totally honest
Wading into that deadly morass
Isn’t a delicate chasse
Only those unafraid of that plunge
Will be able to forever expunge
The chest of drawers
That contain all our fears
It may be a long trek
Into that space above the neck
It cannot be made on one foot
While the other seeks to become a permanent root
In the make believe
Which can never provide a lasting reprieve
From the shadow of sorrow
That threatens to dull tomorrow
It isn’t a simple matter to close that space
As one cannot easily displace
What that may contain
We would not survive that strain
From the burdens of the past
If it comes as a sudden blast
Those refugees amongst thoughts
Would only serve to further emboss
The need to separate
And instead dedicate
Effort and time to the worldly train
In return, ceding control of the terrain
Of the ever expanding inner space
Truly just a make believe place
Where accommodations are made
For thoughts considered long decayed
It’s a landfill on which the world is built
And in which every generation buries its guilt
The distance is short as the crow flies
If one can drop the guise and ties
Which erode every day and night
But we cling on, afraid of the inner flight
Melting arrangements can be quickly shorn
No one has sworn us to mourn
Attachment’s abrasive strings
In lieu of love’s tender wings
Whose feathers never ruffle
And have the power to end the endless scuffle
Amongst thoughts for a prominent place
As one begins the daily chase
A rigamarole that spins new forms
That add to the considerable collection of norms
A busy human must keep track of
A checklist that isn’t needed when there’s all encompassing love
The way within isn’t flighty
There’s a guaranteed return, as one who’s humble and mighty
Even one such soul may shake the world out of its slumber
There’s a whole different place that isn’t colored umber
It cannot be seen by eyes
That are committed to changing skies
Of the inner or outer space
The wise are not lost in either place
The inner space isn’t where the journey began
It only accommodates time’s endless span
A chasm that may only be crossed
By a bird in flight that isn’t lost
Homing into its real home
That is bathed by light that’s monochrome
It’s the beginning and the end of the spectrum
Where only the one self need be counted for a quorum
- N. Seshadri
