The cosmic joke
In playfulness, we created a dream,
within which just as an actor on stage,
to feel fully each ripple in our heart,
we chose to enter deep ambedo trance,
whence having forgotten our origin,
blown like a leaf in storms we had conjured,
we were compelled to inquire who we are,
in as that light which does not come and go,
not knowing that in truth there was nothing,
except wisps of smoke dancing in sunlight,
held in embrace by space, taunted by time,
being the womb in which desires are spawned,
which we saw clearly when thought mists lifted,
in the vast, vibrant void of cessation,
where poised at a singularity point,
recognising we were the magician,
knowing that there is nothing to be done,
we woke up in the dream as the dreamer,
employing power of bilocation,
deemed as a madman when we laughed at death.
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