Naga
I close my eyes:
thoughts wash over one another
like the tide
World of the living dead
undulating before me
Naga’s Nest
is born of my mind.
I die,
blinded,
buried in a tomb of ideas;
birth and death are ideas,
so are you and I –
I open my eyes:
thoughts extinguish.
Dying a thousand deaths
I find Naga’s skin.
Sight restored,
I live again,
in the Garden of Illusions.