Rama Balasubramanian Poet Free verse

Everything Is Surreal

The body, the mind, the senses
for whom you dedicate your life,
they're transient, they are surreal

The family, the friends, the relations
for whom you toil throughout your life,
they're transient, they are surreal

Your talents, your achievements, your possessions
of which you are very proud,
they're transient, they are surreal

Everything is temporary.
Today it is with you, 
tomorrow it may go away.
Everything is surreal.

Have no attachments, have no pride,
have no expectations, have no plans.
Everything is fickle, everything is surreal.

So what is real?
It is the soul.
It is the real us!

Trapped within our body,
getting new body at every birth.
It is permanent.

Aim to see it.
Strive to liberate it.

Once liberted you will leave the surreal world
and reach the real world
where everything is eternal,
life is blissful.

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Gershon Wolf December 13, 2020 at 5:04 PM So true, Rama! The soul is our piece of eternity. All the rest crumbles. (Just a thought: If you've never read the play, "Our Town," by Thornton Wilder, I think that you would just love it! It's very, very short, as you'll see if you pick it up. But it's very profound, and deals with 'Things Eternal). Lovely penning, Gershon Rama Balasubramanian December 14, 2020 at 4:59 PM Thanks for your positive comment. Will surely want to read that book. Let me see where I can get it. Enjoy your day friend. Take care, Rama