WHAT WE SEE IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS

People viewed are phantoms in a dream,
Puppets held in the gloved hand of God,
Ghost shadows on a screen, Self, shines a gleam;
All's evolved somehow, it's so strange and odd.

The garden hedge of Advaita is sewn,
With rose bushes of potent paradox,
Foxing monkey mind; how high they've grown.
Truth is neither orthodox nor heterodox.

What's called Truth, empirically forsooth,
Is false metaphysically it seems,
And vice versa, that's the huge joke of Truth,
In this perplexed vexed maze of sunbeams.

We stop posing problems with the brain,
But practise Self Enquiry and Surrender,
That's all that's needed on this train.
All mind rubbish, best trash in the blender.

The egotistic mind is mostly mad,
Just a muddled mix of mundane thought,
Neither very good or very bad,
Ever telling us what we 'should' and 'ought'.

'So what we see is not what it seems or appears',
So the Great Advaita Sages wisely state,
We strive to see who's the see-er and who hears?
And never leave the Task before 'tis much too late!