musings on time

the world is not as small as I used to believe

Nor is it as forgiving

Heroes do not refer to the morally infallible,

But to people who did the necessary, right thing at the right time

Villains, then, are not those who seek darkness, but those who have embraced darkness as a means to justify an end

Justice picks favorites,

and mercy is fleeting

There is no peace without war,

and no war without crime

Happiness is not a state of mind, but a gift from time to time

Family is not forever, for better or worse

Wickedness and violence walk closely to love and loyalty:

you are hurt more often by those you trust than by strangers

Time passses more and more quickly every year you live

Loyalty is inevitably rewarded with treachery

Goodness is fleeting, but so is viciousness

People you love will leave you,

but you in turn will leave people who love you

There is no great end to a life, only an unexpected cessation

Honor, loyalty, and duty are used to justify violence

The powerful prey on the weak

The world is not as small as I used to believe

And the passage of time corrupts the heart,

dulls the mind

and rots the body.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A lamentation for the weary who enjoy weariness

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A Dream in a Dream in a Dream.......

All in a sudden, I awaken in a dream
and walk in the garden.


Strolling blithely, I come upon a radiant tree
that is bosky, green and lovely

the fruit seems luscious, sweet and heavenly.


As I bite into it, the dream ends
and lazily blends

into another one.


Now I am outside the garden

There are people and mansions,
enthralling animals, beautiful birds
and picturesque diagrams
of vivid clouds and twinkling stars.

There is the elevation of mountains
and there are blinding canyon-depressions....


.…..and then the dream dissolves in the next one.


Steadily, the sleep deepens quietly
and another illusion grips tightly.

Now there is a north-south and there is an east-west.

There is swelter-fog and there is spring-fall.
Love-hate is there and fear-courage too.
Celibacy-sex is there and avarice-distaste too.


and there is endless desire......


From coarse to subtle I move into yet another muddle.

The dream is religious now.

Sometimes there are rituals and vows,
followed by efforts to be just here-now.


and there is endless desire
for no desire......


The oblivion gradually strengthens.
The fruit and the tree in the garden
are a remote, distant remembrance
in this relentless dream-chain.


I go on sleeping, unremittingly dreaming
and moving farther and farther

from the beginning.


There is no garden anymore as I continue to snore.


Eventually I lose all memory of what was it like
or what will it be like to wake up to life

once more.



But who is this that is telling me
that I am dreaming

these incessant versions and ceaseless mutations
of me and my reality?


Is THAT my waking reality itself?

Is THAT an ever-conscious atom
continuously splitting...and regularly spilling


over and over


into my deep stupor?


© Chandra S.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Before we bit the fruit of knowledge, we were one with the source. Now, we have traversed far and this life is just one dream after another as we oscillate in the mire of duality.

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