No End Of Joys Poem by Mohabeer Beeharry

This is a strange world,
Stranger being me
Whom I barely know.

Great suns rise in the morning
And set at evening tide,
Enlivened with beauteous moons.

Fireflies light the dark
Chasing a stupid light
Stuck on a pole

While as he plunges down a senseless precipice
The musk deer offers his dear life
To the altar of an empty dream
That emblazones his own self.

What are we chasing?
The more we chase light the more we reap darkness,
The more we want to be happy
The more we are webbed into tears.

Have you found the way?
No, I have not.
Have you found happiness?
Barely, nightmarish!

Stop while the hay is still good,
Listen to the birds' songs
That tell the truth!

Watch the morning mist
Devoutly offering itself to the musical breeze,
Know then that you have made of life
A web that has turned you into a fated fly.