Mirage As The Prophet Witnesses. Poem by Subrata Ray

Once in Western India through a desert country,
Vivekananda Swami had His pilgrimage,
He walked and walked on passage after passage,
Crystal lakes, trees and pants clad in green hue,
Revealed one after another in His wandering gauss.

One day thirsty He felt to quench His throat,
Hurried He was and his sense Him brought,
TO clear and transparent watery lake,
The more he approached the more it proved a fake.

The supernatural in natural began to haunt his Being,
A vow He took to search the real thing.
Every day the same apparent lakes charmed his sense,
In willing suspension of disbelief He felt the trance.
Then the ray of the truth flashed in His brain,
Throughout His life, Swamiji had seen mirage’s train.
Yet He could not know why and what for it was,
It was a mirage –the bubbles of Nature’s vanishing touch.

‘So is it with this universe’ –He draws the conclusion,
The past Karma and the future hopes evoke the motion.
Lifelong -lifelong run we after one mirage to another,
The body decays, the mind falls, -the mirage enchants farther.

So long the chains of Karma are broken,
In grips of mirage we are taken,
And vainly seek the objects of foolish desire,
And utterly fail to ignite the hidden divine fire.

A new knowledge by quantum Jump,
By our stern austerity would surely come,
And Mirage the provoking Cheat no longer remains,
Then the truest Conscience equals to purified brain.