Awakening Poem by Ananta Madhavan

The moment suffices as it passes
Towards the past or amnesia;
That moment of awakening
Into another dream or trance,
A continent of Otherdom.

In our consensual world
We give names to things;
Trees, rivers, roads, even folk
Exist from agreed nomination.

Here the optics of our lingos
Diverge and multiply like clouds,
Clinging to the misty hill crest,
Dispersing into songs unheard.

The Future is history before it happened,
Foretold by Sibylline interpreters. Awaken.