Life –an
illusion?
The remnants of our ancestors have mingled with the soil.
Our decayed cells will fertilize the plants of our descendents.
The elders edge towards the
grave, the youth pulsate with life. Sinewy limbs enervate and wrinkle while tender ones grow from the fetus. Cradle, breath and grave come in a rhythmic march like the
red, yellow and red flashes of robots. .
Life is it
darkness or light? Or, darkness clothed in light?
Illusion or
mirage ? Only a reality can make a mirage. May be an illusion, a deceptive one.
Then the brilliance of the present, the reality of the now?.
Is it the flickering of a dying lamp? An atomic bomb bring a gigantic flare before the
pain and death.
If nights could stall the
ray and make real the gloom
No illusion, no mirage, no pain, no parting, no tear.
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