I Am the Light
Lit up is the open-air amphitheater
Worldly objects ready, the eager greeter
The audience cheers for their noble seater
Ego, the King, dressed as the sweeter.
Intellect dances in thought’s great storm,
Spinning in spirals of mental form.
Sense-objects follow, take the stage in norm
Yet light remains, untouched, warm.
Identity theft is quietly dealt
“I” mixed up, with this and that
No center left, everything is felt
Illusions bind in sorrow’s heft.
Self-knowledge guards like firewalls tight,
Banishing ignorance with steady light.
Truth prevails in purity bright
Panchadashi’s flame lights the night.
I am the Light—beyond ego’s frame.
I am the Light—free of thought’s game.
I am the Light—untouched by name.
I am the Light—forever the same.

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