The boy leaping off a train,

racing through the streets,

his wind-whipped hair

a nest of coal and sapphire

is just an apparition;


the rice he almost starves for

and then spills, the teeming

rain, the thousand angels

singing are mere phantoms

conjured in our hearts

to know what’s real :


the ruby earrings exchanged

for water, belongings tossed

aside are all illusion


guiding us as he was led

to the magnetic tide of love

swept towards itself –


boy to hill

sage to mountain

god to guru –


leaving us the one

uncompromising signature

of truth.

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