When something somewhere
Tells that it's time,
Eyes open to the world
That I know,
But have I really woken up,
I don't know.
When the momentary world
Built in my dream,
Fades away into oblivion
To expose the reality ,
Have I really woken up,
I don't know.
When memory, thought momentarily
Forgotten, gushes back,
To remind of the past,
To cloud the present and the future,
Have I really woken up,
I don't know.
When the feeling of Self,
The personality of the Ego,
Shields my inner self,
To become the Me,
Have I really woken up,
I don't know.
When I let go of everything,
Within and without,
To search the unknown,
The one only spoken of,
Have I really woken up,
I don't know.
When I can see and feel the present ,
Bring back the past,
Adorn my personality,
Live the present,
Yet without purpose,
A mute spectator to the ways of life,
Of atrocity, prejudice, inequality
And poverty,
Have I really woken up,
I don't know.
The momentary world,
Devoid of complexities,
With multitude of choices and options,
Uncontrolled and spontaneous,
Dream they might call it,
New everytime,
What you cannot remember,
Is always the most precious,
Do I really need to wake up,
I wonder my friend,
I wonder.
