MYSELF TO MYSELF
Only One remains
throughout the enoic time
weaving on His desire loom
new creations in succession.
The maker of the plot
himself knows the hidden suspense,
its cloak-dagger intrusions,
the ensnaring stratagems.
He, the puppeteer pulls puppets’ string,
knows when to launch which one,
how long to make it strut on the stage,
at what moment to clamp the curtain.
The magic shadow-show has been on
since the beginning of time,
this play of hide and seek,
no chance it will ever cease.
Who is searching whom
when there is no second,
yet such zest in the quest!
myself to my Self!

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