Illusion

Singing away the clean melody

Only replicated by the seas

Where winds rescue the waves from each other

Simmer and flow

From one to the next

Feeling the delicate spray across his face

From the seas who shake hands with the rocks

He stands within the scene

Understanding its illusion

Its' substituting for the truth

The skies freeze in the shades of black

The dark of the night

The sheet of twinkling sprinkled across the charcoal expanse

It's real

Yet it's not

Just like the air around him

This, with it's partner, the mist

Capturing swirls and waves

Through and through

In and out of its fabric

To quell itself into bouts of silence

Where everyone just pauses

And purses

To enliven the contrast

Between their activity and temperance.

He watches it slow

And shake up its pace

And sleep down again

Into a wistful bliss

Be he is not fooled

By its simplicity

Nor beauty

Nor grace

Nor touch.

He knows the truth

The one that lingers within

And tempers this existence with that

He stays aware

And completes it in his mind

That the truth is only One

No matter how solid its alternative may seem

He knows

That each particle is an illusion

Despite its density
Despite its sense

And he can persist

In the purity of his knowledge

Unoblique

Undivided

Without the illusion of feeling

To be absorbed into the Source

As each piece of existence

From this false plane

To gather on the other side

As equal as he was meant to be

Solid

Only in truth

And meaning.