At the cusp of enlightenment

There is a feeling of de javu

Of being here and done that..

And yet it’s all too new and unexplored.

One is hardly apologetic to anyone

For being oneself as one is…

It’s a bliss that has slept for eons

And awaits to sweep over the world.

You know you are nothing

And yet everyone and everything belongs to you.

Like a queen of hearts who rules the land

& Like a monk with no possessions ..

All Polarities are seen succumbing

To the glory of the pure self

At this point

Neither effort nor effortlessness

Makes any meaning.

One is too dizzy with the pain of longing

And the anxiety of discovery.

Mortal sorrow is as real as nirvanic bliss.

There is nothing to be rejected nor accepted.

It’s simply the spontaneous and complete acceptance of the moment …

And then the next and the next and so on…