Most excellent call to participating in life.

I am over here on cloud # 9, sitting lanky-legged in the arms of the One, reading this beautiful illuminating poem.

At first I thought, movie, but that's too mundane for the feeling here. Desire, yes, longing, too. And I (might) know the sensation, because of a recent experience where I was seated listening to someone play beautiful music.
~Chelle~

Brilliant use of words that brings in the whole gaumet of life, death, reincarnation, the ONE or great creator, and the real illusion of all four. We are indeed both players and spectators.

Yes disguised we are.... But do we live? I hope. Great poem.

i know you are far too intelligent/full of life to sit in on a weekend night and look for strangers online to mingle with, but i very much got that flavor with this piece. feeling alive talking to someone you'll never touch in their own darkness. the mystery of creating your own perfect ONE self for a perfect stranger seems godly doesn't it? we are only alive, if we treat ourselves first...another take i get from this. powerful write ashok. quality thinker material.

It is dark, this place where we exist, fragmented, within, so too reacting without, constantly doing what �I� hate, un-reconciled without and within. The master is deep asleep and has fallen from his seat, or perhaps there never was a master born and so no seat created. So, how then can WE SEE when it is WE who ARE the dark, who un-light the room by un-living and un-loving, eternally at odds with what is, eternally blind? But sometimes a spark ignites, if only for one moment, and from there the master is born, present but weak among the legion�a small flame amidst the moist darkness. That ONE is the only light in the room, the only source of illumination. Having sprung forth a single coil of LIVING fire, there can only be one choice. The master shall occupy his seat, BECOMING ONE in the room, illuminating it fully, moment to moment, keeping the whispering shadows starving for a void that no longer exists, far away from the helm of affairs. Or, his kindling spirit shall be put out by the others because of his inaction. They, justifying and scheming, will spit at each inkling of a kindled flame. The one acts not, too stuck to move, too weak to wake, slumbering perpetually, leaving so aptly the darkness to the blind. But this is poetry of affirmation and of LIGHT. �Let�s occupy our seats, Love� � Yes! For what other choice is there but this beautiful utterance, this suggestion, this realization of the true meaning of Life and Death which walk in time hand in hand. What more beautiful a demand is there than to demand LIFE from life, and LOVE whose hand is ever clasping the hand of LIFE. Yes, let us all occupy our seats, never slumbering, ever illuminated, SEEING, BEING, knowing and sensing�what then will �I� ever do that �I� hate? How can �I� do what �I� hate, when �I� AM ONE. There is no other left to DO what "I" have UNDONE. That�s what I saw. Beautiful, and highest marks to you.

Just as the illumination of any light or fire, which is situated in one place, is spread all over, the energies of the One, are spread throughout the universe.

I get the image of a zoned-out couple watching TV.

hopefully we can all take our seats when our time comes to take them and hopefully those sears are not occupied by others less meriting and anxious to take our places.

what a comforting reminder that we truly are never alone, as isolated as we may feel.. thank you

I am reading a translation of the Bhagavad Gita so I am delighted to read a poem that is on a similar path as this incredible book.