Maya the Illusion

It lay curved, Not curled or coiled; No slithering, Not even swing; ‘Snake’, said my wife. ‘Rope’, I did Modify. ‘I have, anyway, believed.’ ‘Ha!’ I retaliated; Shankaracharya’s philosophy slipped in like a soap, Mistaking rope for snake and snake for rope… Yet that lay As though nothing to say… She took a stick, I hurried with naked hands to pick; And, Lo! It stood, Opening its hood; ‘Jesus!’ Hisses! She stood cane in her hand, Helping me hide behind; Till it crawled fast for life, And I cried a sigh of relief… Our little daughter laughed and said: ‘Your Philosophy has fallen dead.'