So inviting is your world of golden dreams.
Perched, in your ornate brilliance,
at the altar's summit,
your dazzling chalices filled with
delicacies: gold, mansions, thrones
Encased in opaque glass your subtle,
more intangible delights:
name, beauty, fame, true love…even Moksha.
Offer obeisance to this glowing lady,
and she may grant you a moment of happiness.
But often, more than often, her price is high.
Ghostly Queen of Illusion,
she'll destroy peace with her merciless haunting
since she thrives on the pain of our longing.
What will she display next, tireless temptress,
to keep me, again, from me?
Weariness from this battle of broken dreams may be
the greatest fortune, after all.
For who would again step into her Hall of Mirrors
when knowing it just to be a show?
Silence will, at least with death, have its way, if only momentarily…
Why then, do we return for more, for another walk through her maze?
Shatter her tinsel image and ignore her false musings,
and be freed from her superstitious grip.
What then?
Does no Maya mean no life?
From her ashes can a new life arise, free of longing?
Don't turn back.
Forsake her temple of doom.
Kneel before the Real
Forever putting an end to this quest for empty happiness.
The Real asks nothing, but showers the benediction of unlimited joy.
