This Path-less Land,

Of Truth!

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Many things are, 

In Your reach,

Many things are, 

In your sight,

Many things are, 

In your ambit,

Some are though,

In your sight,

Not in your reach. 

Some are though, 

In your reach, 

Not in your reach, 

Of those which are, 

In your sight, 

And in your reach, 

Some attract your attention.

And the conflict lets you not,

Take a decision.

And is lost the moment, 

Irretrievably.

There are times next, 

But this one was lost.

What's the use of, 

Wailing over this loss, 

Be careful, 

Be watchful,

Be attentive,

The Self is ever so near, 

The Self is ever so dear, 

Don't let it slip away, 

From your hands,

And you can't hope,

Attaining in some future, 

Distant, just here or very near. 

You have to clasp this very moment.

And you shall grieve no more.

That is the only door,

In this Path-less Land!

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