Two roads diverged in a mellow wood.
With rugged paths and uphill roads further ahead.
Dimly or half-hidden, as the wood deepened.
Strain my eyes, trying to glimpse
the surprises in store.
But such view is beyond mortal eyes.
Perhaps part of my earthly tests.
Perhaps part of the Big Riddle:
'Wherever I go, there I am.'
When young, no matter which road I took,
forged ahead, seeking prizes,
or meeting setbacks, reversed,
chose another road or repeated the cycle,
half-consciously, I carried a heavy Log:
desires, prides, fears, frustrations, jealousies.
With hindsight, I realized:
My feet didn’t get to choose.
Rather, that Log came alive.
It got hungry, feeding on my prides, anxieties, fears,
growing into a huge, shadowy Creature.
Soon it dragged me along,
pulling me to walk that kind of road
in a secular way in a secular world.
I saw many choosing highways to the cities,
looking for branded cars, gold watches, silvery mansions.
Some became frustrated when dreams proved elusive.
Some took big risks in speculations -
stocks, derivatives, currencies.
Their volatile prices burdened some with debts.
Even forcing some to take a sad fall
from the silvery windows of high-rise buildings
onto shattered pieces of glass
that soon mixed with pools of blood.
The illusions cracked.
When pulled along by the shadowy Creature,
the mindset I wore or hid within,
the roads I trod in the world of red dust,
bent towards the wrong direction.
Regrets sooner or later found me.
May I return to the poets of the past.
The blue sky and green hills are saying:
“That Creature survives on self-focused desires.
They are porous, transparent, short-lived.'
If I quietly watch the inner circus,
they undress as flashes of mental energy,
like little, untamed animals scurrying around
in the untamed grove in my mind.
If I watch further, each flash of energy
spurts around for a few seconds
before disappearing into the unknowable mind.
Each flash of energy is like a squirrel
darting towards a hazel nut, grabbing or missing it,
quickly disappearing into the thick branches.
It is like a hyperactive puppy chasing a bone of desire,
biting it, running away to hide in a hole,
waiting for the next bone to appear.
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