With sneering eyes and curving brows
The audience anticipates the show.
Clap! Clap!!
The choa-chow melody grow,
But the pendulum of Tao has no steady go.
When comes raven of dawn,
Discard the dream and hide your innocence horn,
Make believe is parent to a countless pretentious sons.
“Grow up son; it’s time to tie your shoe lace,
Let me mould you with a tailored dress”
Who are you? One mirror reflects three-million faces.
Early bird and lazy worms,
Fossils cumulates cunning charms,
Surprise assaults appear without alarms.
Newspapers and coffee tables,
Built on a loaf of bread,
Still smells of their rancid sweat.
Without the light of my mind,
Casting images on the canvas of memories and hopes-
Will there be shadows anymore?
On a moonless night,
There can be no separation
Between the ocean and the shore.
It is:
What the mind wants to see,
One side makes it shrink and the other makes it big.
Mirror reflects unusual,
Geometries of cuts and figures:
Shrouded Strangers.
Incoherent dreams,
Rosetta Signs and symbols.
Ineffable mandalas of asymmetrical proportion.
Monks chasing the rabbit,
Where does Black holes lead?
Where ceases elucidation and duality.
Invisible canvas,
Eight fold the lotus hold
Links of infinite quarks going doodle-dos.
Light the afterglow,
Satellites of twilight, sun and his stows-
Hallelujah, behold the play of shadows.
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