Purusha
The enigma that eludes,
The real that my mind strives to grasp,
Chronicled as the ultimate sacrifice by the rishis of yore,
The unmoved mover of the Greeks,
The Kshara and Akshara,
The misunderstood Kingdom of Christ,
Tasted as Dhawq by the Sufis,
Experienced as Nirvana by the Buddha.
Who art thou or art thou even a who?
Are you Indra, with a thousand eyes?
-Who sees the vicious vicissitudes
Of my reckless indriyas
Or the million-eyed Marduk
-Who weaves creative order
From the shadows of chaos
The healing lunar eye of Horus or
The destructive solar eye of Ra?
The third eye of Shiva?
That smoulders the perpetual drives of kama
Or the lotus-eye of Kali?
That blooms ecstatically
While dancing upon Shiva?
Thou are the seer, who knows by Gnosis
The enjoyer who sees
The Paradox of Paradoxes
Sometimes heard in the Heart
As primordial mantric murmurs,
The playfully piercing daemon of Socrates
Who perplexes the discerning mind
Manifesting spontaneously as Vak,
Conveying meaning as Logos
And subduing the mischief of Chronos.
What can be said about the unsayable…
How to describe the indescribable..
Without occluding the arising.
Perhaps the key lies in
Silence
The embodied realising
Of I Am That
And experiencing the truth of
Tat Tvam Asi
