"The mirror of mortality / That unrelieved that unbelieved / Last unperceived reality"
Fasting on Thanksgiving
Perception is reality What we believe is what is real Existing in the way we see Reality is what we feel Just as we discern it to be Your truth while absolute to you Is only relative to me
Illusion is that deception Subscribed to by one who believes Being the myth agreed upon Because of hope in what deceives A dream by which to muddle through Most often no real harm is done It seems the dreams sometimes come true
Reality is perception Falling into the mind like leaves Of many colors in the fall Fluttering life down from the tree These days of our lives one by one Passing before our widened eyes Pieces of you pieces of me
Beautiful truths beautiful lies Beautiful chosen parts of all And then it ends to great surprise We know death comes yet never see The mirror of mortality That unrelieved that unbelieved Last unperceived reality
Maya and the art of writing are integrated. Maya is the Indian word for illusion. We artists have to use this "mind." It's a rehearsal stage. We have to lose our "mind" to come more to our senses. And we have to fast. Rid ourselves of food, drink, and obsolete nonsense. Poets and writers have to act. We have to learn to become "stageworthy." Mirror activity has been traced back to the Socratic Greeks. For those of us who look into the mirror and see mortality, it reflects life takes place on a short stage and when the curtain is drawn, the hushed tone of Death is avoided, where maya becomes reality. Intriguing, challenging write, Steven.
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Regis
Felix
Great Write, Keep it up
Love Tinka
Sage