The Spiritual Journey

“The vision of spiritual wisdom finds the portal open to the sanctum of profound bliss” – Quote by Poet I hold three magic rocks, in my hand rolling them over and over and over leaving this reality behind, far behind I embark on a dreamlike notional journey in the pale garden and in the brown pasture, across the spread of starless onyx nights, and the smoky span of the dismal days, steering spellbound life in the mist of maze. The assigned road to travel is naively long, the time I get to reach its end is fully finite. The restless mind loses the focused vision and the innate wisdom for deep insight. In magical spell the path turns into a river, carving the meandering course of its own, I sail self-possessed to the decreed destination, where the river meets the sea, not yet known. I don’t measure the space, and count the time, follow subservient the inescapable route as set across the stardust-draped sequined nights, and the sunburst days of exuberance, I get. I don’t ask the purpose of the ordained journey, for I won’t ever know the intent of the creator. So, I travel entranced in the dale of acuity flowers and in the verdant topography of mental meadow. I don’t drown hope in the deep abyss of despair, but detached from realism I travel covertly content in the sanguine segment of the new mystic pathway I pave under spell in the captivating time present, kindle in my soul the divine beacon of introspection. In the glorious glare of the thousand suns I see the alley inside illumined for the spiritual journey to the abode of bliss to reside at the end of my time.