The Shroud....

See the wispy mist rise out of the swamps
a mist, seemingly a shroud!
A shroud for the living
not for the dead!
The flimsy drape conceals nothing
neither a million mediocrities,
nor a million fears!
Yet, masking, hiding, camouflaging
the true self, deeply layered beneath!
Lifetimes pass by, compressed
into tiny capsules of moments
We lie there, live here
unable shrug off the shroud,
unaware of its very existence!
What a wasted life
when the True Self awaits realisation!!


Jan 16, 2011...1350 hrs



Haiku....Insomnia


Eyes wide shut
solitude, a lullaby soothes
sleep, what a requiem!