A Drop of Life through the Gates of Illusion

One is born, steps in, sliding through the gates,
The gates where one illusion begins and the other ends,
Does one carry a part of self from the beyond,
Or does a droplet manifest,appear out of nowhere,
A drop untouched by the spheres,
By the winds,morsels of dust reigned by the time and space above,
Untainted by which is the past,the many revolutions of the mighty hand of the clock,

A pure droplet, transparent, minuscule, bound by two polarities,
One essence of the righteous good and the other the freezing presence of stubborn evil,
Maybe both are one? Only to sprout and branch and carve disjoint parted paths in times to come,
As born is this angel, sheer breath of life devoid of any notion of life,pure or otherwise?

As the bell sounds and resounds, the capsule expands engulfing a bit more of the state around within itself,
Beginning to spin and ride with the illusion of each moment,
The membrane that was crystal clear,shinning with what we sinners call innocence,
It now seems muddied,gathering ash,smoke as it drifts,

But then aren’t the colors we see the imprint of pigmented light from our own eyes,
Trapped we are by our own vision within the boundaries of our own sight,
Our eye which wants to define infinity only reduces its vast array to only finite,
Ignorant we harrow through the shreds of memory and present time to narrow down to the truth
How can truth be narrow? The true splashes and streaks of colors shall remain undefined,
As beauty of truth is in that it remains amorphous,

The bubble that was drifting, searching for the unknown, is it truly in motion,
Or is it static where as the moments dupe us, twisting and shifting into the next of its many illusions,
Testing us as we fight within our space, one polarity with another,
If that ain’t enough,pulled and pushed,scathingly let go after being tossed and held in the air, the fortitude one must rise with!

Emancipated, in search of water,of itself,of its mates,
To quench its thirst, to flow in collusion and serenity,
Inhaling the aroma of the blossoming spring,
While rafting along the silent stream that flows amidst the magnificent season of life,

Alas,the serendipity ends as the scorching sun captures the droplets, and they drift apart again,
Now swallowing the thirst, the sorrow of loss, spurring on with the impending moments,
Living in memories, sharing the nostalgia with mates of the moment,
Those who survived the pain impinged by the brunt of the heated winds and blisters from the ruthless sun,
Struggling to understand and find both,
The spot where it had left the solid ground and the place it was and is heading to,
Hoping for hope, to remain dipped in life and its illusions,
Desiring to remain drenched,
Alas it finds its destination, a cause of joy?
It finds itself, it is wholesome once more,
When it faces death, drying up, as it leaves one illusion and stands on the verge of entering another.

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