All my Illusions..

Briefly, walking through the city streets
From the bus stop to the train,
I'm able to pretend, just for a while
And to give some semblance of knowing -

Relax! And throw my shoulders back
Forget the world, that runs inside my head
Smiling, at ease with passers by
Who do not know the secret of my self.

Dark and buried under history's buildings
Layer and layers of psychic self defence.
Somewhere fumbling in the darkness
A bumbling fool who breaks the placid silence

Here in unlit places do I stand
and meet my naked self, face to face
every flaw and wrinkle showing
every line and hardened edge of heart.

Plumb the depths of my own foolish nature
(But only when the old scripts turning pale)
Play the tragic hero, in the spot
Stand centre stage - and read the same old pages.

Really life isn't so dramatic
The tragedy I am is just good copy,
mostly I'm an ordinary being,
with foolish aspirations to be more.

And so I swing from knowing to unknowing
and hope to settle somewhere in between
held by the love of sangha, and of buddha
I'd rather be an ordinary being.

Namo Amdia Bu