Without ego, i gaze at things.
The whole excuses my old illusion,
Sets myriad mirrors in motion.
It is a bore after a while, yet
As true as i can think on it all.
'My' life's a life, unremarkable,
'My' death's a death, ordinary.

It's a sad conclusion that unites
Science and advaita ruminating.
Wars roar, waterfalls pour, and i
Tenderly lift a fly from the basin
Before turning the tap on. Sigh!
It wouldn't have mattered. Nigh
Is what i thought was 'my' going.

What is a part's responsibility?
It is a part, it is a part, it is a part.
It will do its part, the way it does.
If parts are compassionate, so is
The whole. Otherwise it's not so,
Except where it is. No magic here
Where laws churn a steady fate.

A poet part can feel tired at law.
It is a bother not to fall prostrate
Or to kneel, or bow, or genuflect.
To gaze askance at vain thoughts
Of importance, puffy predictions,
And reserve observations except
Here, i write with good intention.

There is nothing but for parts to
Gladden parts, bring smiles, and
Spread love. It is in the doing is all.
The whole will take its shape.
Parts too would take their shape.
There's only so much we can do.
Yes, some are geniuses, saints.


© Sanjib Basu