Sunday, November 8, 2015

Upside down

A mind weighed down by cares
Isn’t one that easily shares
With pockets so full
There’s ever present danger of a lazy lull

Between birth and death
Linked by a tireless breath
Coming in endless waves that wash the chest
Even as the mind forgets how much we’re blessed

So heavy, it cannot be turned upside down
One who fears its depths may easily drown
It's become a begging bowl
Overflowing with desires, and camouflaging the soul

With the heavy weight of emotion
The soul remains unspoken
Preferring to remain in the shadows
Experienced only in a state that’s hallowed

Where the mind may be turned upside down
Deserted by thoughts, it’s left to become a ghost town
This is seen as a fall from worldly grace
As long as there is memory’s trace

Rows upon rows, stacked floor to ceiling
A sight that should be unappealing
But with a collector’s mindset
Every thought is looked upon as an asset

That cannot be cashed
Unless one is unabashed
About not pandering to the ego
Which offers no cure, not even a placebo

It is a curious virus
That’s made everyone desirous
And hungry for ever more
Than one can hold in store

Bags bursting at the seams
Gain entry, with the senses working in teams
All five are prolific collectors
Of whatever falls on their exposed receptors

The mind is in no danger of starvation
It constantly belches emotion
Always full to the brim
Rare is the one who’s a hungry pilgrim

With pockets that are emptied
They cannot be envied
Holding nothing in store
They are free to explore

The world inside
The entry to which is normally denied
By a gluttonous mind
That is aligned

With its faithful ally
The ego, which would decry
Any attempts to starve its friend
Hoping their shared rein would never end

At the pearly gates within
Where the real journey begins
Proof of entry
Must be stamped by an invisible sentry

The smile of happiness broadens
As one soars high in the inner heavens
Angels in flight have no pockets
All desires are left behind rusty pickets

That fence in the lower mind
Which is the realm of the blind
Living on a ball, they’re no edges to fall from
They proudly march to the beat of their own drum

In never ending circles
That’s how they maintain this circus
Whether or not it is taken seriously
The lord of death has no sympathy

He practices his return in the depths of sleep
Where we  follow him like sheep
With the power to turn our worlds
Upside down, he patiently watches as fate unfolds

This should be no concern of ours
There’s a lot to do before we turn to dust under the stars
With repeated forays into the inner unknown
One day a path will be shown

To the door of immortality
Useful when the body has lost its utility
Until then there is a different form of worship
Work that is turned into spiritual entrepreneurship

Some answers will never be found
Even if the world is turned upside down
If the inner vision is right
They will come into sight

When the mind turns into a mirror that doesn't hide
Troubles are easily taken in one’s stride
Walking with an energetic pace
Giving one’s all before returning to home base

Where the mind may be turned
Inside out and returned
No more weighed down by cares
Or turned upside down by worldly affairs

  • N. Seshadri