Was a myopic view,
A borrowed lens.
It held meaning
Only as long as
the eye that beholds, blinks.
The material with its power of touch, endured.
The ephemeral with its presence of transience, discarded.
Is a new view,
An evolved lens.
It holds value
For as long as
The guru that beckons, prods.
The Buddha with its theory of practice, lived.
The disciple with its role of the master, reversed.
What Will Be:
Will be a bird’s eye view,
A retrospective lens.
It holds glory
A lifetime’s journey, each step continuing
Until it reaches…its peak, its peace.
The self with its searching, sought.
The vision like a looking glass, cleared.
What Really Is:
An evolving view,
Simply a lens.
I see only what I want to see.
My vision clouded by
realities of my internal and external.
The questioning with its truth, asked.
The realizing with its freedom, answered.