This body is an illusion, in more ways than one.
It calls for neither pride nor shame.
It is temporary, like one's name,
a wilting flower in the sun.
This body is mostly space
(an illusion, too),
riding the illusion of time
and the farce of place.
This body is Consciousness's car,
made of energy and light,
as such, it travels far
through Chaos's dark night.
Text and image Copyright © 2021 by Donald C. Traxler aka Donald Jacobson Traxler, Nagna Chidaananda.
