The word spins whirlwinds in my mind
dancing in the midst
of dreamland, unattached,
a soul
without a body.

“Father, – I said
resting my serious head upon his lap,
what is freedom”?

(A shadow on his face,
a glint of joy,
both paradoxically present.)

“Freedom lives at the heart of illusion.
Therefore, my child,
to have her you must have all your dreams
Among the fragments
you will find her,
like a gleaming jewel…”

“Freedom, oh God, freedom…”
Teach me how to fly
without barriers or boundaries.”
And he came down upon the shore
striking me down with a blast of lightning.
And all my illusions were scattered on the spot.
All my tears cried forever
and all my laughter spent.

Depleted I stood, aghast.
Totally and absolutely empty.
And then he kissed my cheek and said,
– “Now you are free”.

Writhing in greatest agony and despair
I watched the horizon disappear
and felt the sprouting
of new wings.
And in my total emptiness
I was free,
and gladly paid the price:

– “Man – he explained softly
is the illusion hunter,
forever enchaining himself
in the vision,
entrapped till eternity
in his dream of beauty and perfection.”

– “Man – he spoke quietly
is the illusion maker,
building a universe of truths
on the structure of a lie.
He ought to see that truth lies
in the denial of all illusion.
By then, man, who remains enmeshed
in his dreams, is not a man.
He must give up his castles in the clouds
And come darting into his center.
Then he shall be free,
and only then he shall be a man.”

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