It's Just There On My Lap Poem by Sumitra Kumar

Trying to be the ideal me.
As exotic as 'I' can be!

I know not what is I.
For it is nothing but a lie.
I know not what is me.
Something I cannot see.
I know not what is myself.
Do you get that on a store shelf? !
But I know what is mind,
As much that it does not bind.
I know what is body.
Five senses does it embody?
I know what is ego.
Yes, that - one must always let go.
Thereby seeing myself in everyone else,
And everyone else in myself, what else?
That makes me free of hurt,
Disappointments seem to skirt.
A new me, resplendent in the now!
There is neither overwhelming love
Nor there is overwhelming hate.
Waiting at the threshold of heaven's gate,
Arousing a feeling of neutrality and peace.
Limiting thoughts of the past and future cease.
Expansive freedom emanates from peace.
Sharing and caring expressed like gentle breeze.
Gracefully optimising earthly performances,
Tuning in to the right attitude and its nuances.
There is no quest for success,
Or that ever eluding happiness.
Without asking or hesitation it's just there
On my lap for the secrets are laid bare.