Often we feel
A certain extrasytole
A disobediant murmur
Ruining the rhythm of our heart.
We quietly wonder what
Our limbic cortex is up to now.
Is it that girl
Dancing like a diva?
Or that hot guy
Showing off his smile
We get attracted to flashy people
Quite easily.
It’s like moths flitting around
A table-lamp.
A hot one, indeed;
They feel the burn when they make contact.
But what about the quiet little candles?
Or that bubbly lava-lamp?
That cool little flame, all alone in the corner-
All the diffused source of ambient light-
It’s the brighter ones we spot-
The glarishly iridiscent point-sources of pollution.
And, amidst all the eye-piercing
Mind-boggling, Attention-seeking nastiness,
Do we overlook the calm little beings:
Those who light up our life
With their cool little glow-
Without whom
We’d be blind.
They are the Asmi.
It is often that we get attracted to the wrong sort of people, those who seem nice and all, but their words are full of deceit, and not infrequently are their actions too.
Hurt by them, we fall back onto our innermost spaces, expecting darkness to engulf us.
And so, we are most astonished when that doesn’t happen. Often we see ourselves surrounded in an aura of diffused light, emanating from some far-off source, indiscernible. However much we try to reach out to it, we cannot effectively gauge the depth or distance to that all-encompassing light source.
Within some beings exist the 光脈 (Kōmyaku: The River of Light we see far far beneath our feet when we close our inner eyelids) in the distilled form. They are channelers of light in their true form and even though plagued by the clutches of darkness, they know the pain of being blind- and so they desire to share the light. They are the Asmi.
As soon as the light alleviates us, we break our shell and assume our normal selves. The memory of the light is but a dream and shall be lost to us soon, just as dreams are lost to our memories. But the existence of such beings shall remain, and they shall smile to themselves as they see us having made a recovery. They have succeeded.
All they desire might be to be remembered by us. To be appreciated. Maybe. I don’t know. I could never make contact with the inner mind of any of such persons I met. I do not know their purpose, or why they practise this benevolent act of theirs. I only know that they exist, and we are indebted to their presence, though unaware of it most of the time.
Maybe the Light flows in you too?
Who knows? Maybe you too are
Asmi.
The Delirious Mind 