Illusionary Illusions
©2015, Olan L. Smith
You think you have me figured out,
See, even this curtain is a deception;
Your Creator is imaginary fractal dusk
Sparkling in the light, and what you cannot see,
Well, that itself would blow you away. You are dust
On the palm of my hand, poof! I'm gone
You're gone, everything vanishes. The dub-dub
Of your heart ceases, and we begin again.
You seek me behind many shrouds.
You discern veils were there are none, and
Bow down to worship what you think you know.
You know nothing at all. You are completely blind;
Your thoughts are muddled, your intellectuals
Chase their tail, while laughing at their dog.
YOU ARE READING
The Wizard!
PoetryThe Wizard! This collection from Olan L. Smith is a dialogue series that asks questions and ponders evidence about existence. We will take a look behind the curtain to see what the Wizard is up to and what tricks he (she) has up his (her) sleeve, b...
