Lucid dreams and time bombs
light up folds of the mind like fireworks
stamping images that fade,
leaving only memory trails in their wake.
In bright light or deepest shadow
lies truth, pulsing quietly
and insistently amidst folly;
flickering neon placards of inquiry,
arising purely from desire
to set course aright.
Why do we struggle, perceiving bondage
when freedom ever unfolds before us
like flowers, or the endless skies?
Peace is possible when a heart yearns ardently
to be free, marking time only heaven knows,
awaiting the great unveiling.