Wow what a thought,
That the garden in my mind is man made!
All those illusions, all those delusions,
All those wonderous things and sublime visions,
And I created them all?
Did I wire my imagination?
Wow I must be some kind of God!
Did I invent all those imaginations?
I'm more powerful than I knew.
I've humbly thought that all that creativity,
all those common dreams and schemes,
Came from some shared substance, in that parallel realm,
Where all things are possible
and we all dwell in fear or joy
Inside the treasure tower of the mind.
In that realm, where Mohamed and Jesus are sitting on knees.
And where Moses stands side by side with Maimonides and Handel,
Where Buddha and Gandhi, all walk along a pure blue ganges;
Where Bodhisattvas as countless as the stars in heaven sing to me in
unison, "Come join us in this song!"
Here my tale, it won't take long!
Where all the lies melt away in a mystical moment
When one realizes the truth behind the stone-cutters tale.
Here even Martin Luther sees the truth.
Here even Satan finds salvation.
I thought that realm, imaginary as it may be,
was very real and shared to me.
Dangerous it is, dangerous as "I".
Dangerous as illusion, dangerous as my inner eye.
Yet with our imaginations we see
Things beyond the mountains,
and across the sea.
Dreams that might not happen,
Or perhaps may yet come to be.
And when I heard a thin divine voice,
Say "Go speak truth to Ninevah"
And I fled to Carthage,
Did I think the fish that ate me,
For running from my destiny,
Did I only think it was wrong?
And when I was reborn, spat out!
and sat under my tree singing a sad song.
I had the power to do that?
I had the power to acquire that sword,
had I but remained silent,
Oh why did I awake from my dream at the sight of others suffering?!
If I deny the figurative because it is not literal.
Am I any better than those who chase windmills?
Be my Sancho Panza and come on my journey!
If I deny the "dream-stuff" within me?
If I cannot hear the birds when they sing?
Am I really progressing or retrogressing?
Is religion really at fault,
Or are the people who wander into that paradise,
Simply lost and scared?
Driven by madmen,
led by the blind,
and traversing a land of darkness and enlightenment,
none can avoid.
This truly is Mappo,
If we lack the capacity to dream of better things.
Chris