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Dreamer

Empty is mirror,

Yet it reflects what is.

Chit is absolute abyss,

Yet it contains the existence,

Like unending horizons of sky.

Chit in bond with manas,

Creates and witnesses,

The playful dance of life.

Shunyata is the absolute truth,

Yet it is all of the possible worlds.

Out of its voidness,

World appears and disappears.

Is it real or unreal?

Or merely the Dream,

Of all the possible dreams?

If it is the case,

Who is dreaming, the dreams of all?

The One, the Cosmos.



What if the One is also a figment of imagination?

What if the world is a poetic creation?

And the Poet has deployed itself,

In every form of poetry?

The poetry of life.


What if only bhokta is bhojan?

Only observer is observed?

Only worshiper is worshipped?

Only subject is object?

All are the waves of same Ocean.

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