‘Tis all but Illusion


Blue skies, gentle breeze,  warm, serene,

Ocean breaking, fresh smells, The grass, so green.

Amongst friends, in love, wealthy, and free.

Ah, we’re living the good life.


Life, so precious, such potential, hope;

Storms, torment, sadness, dope?

Alone to bear our karma and cope,

With the burdens that accompany existence.


Amongst sorrow and happiness, badness and good,

Freshness, putridity, what we have and what we could;

‘Tis all but illusion,  Maya does with us what she would,

Projecting images onto our screen of consciousness.


And so we continue, believing our perceptions,

Counting on the Reality that meets preconceptions,

As if  our experience where not Maya’s deceptions;

Identifying realness, with sound and form.