Off we go in search for a moment
Of total, unbiased shower of effulgence,
To kiss the face of God,
And live the yoga of the Heart.
Headlights are always pointed outwards,
Dispelling the gray smog and dust
But the path ahead doesn't get us
In the ubiquitous lap of origin,
Only throws more dust in our confused eyes.
Deus is not a gift of a terminus point,
It takes no extra light to discern,
A path in the ether cannot be defined
Space is indivisible Consciousness,
Here, now,
None is deprived from seeing it,
It is the Seer himself.
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