Storytelling

[atiguhya padma]

All our lives are merely fictions
Quietly contrived lies
That, creeping into our bodies,
Contaminate our minds

We always scramble for some truth
Hunger for feasts of facts
The morsels thrown at starving dogs
Still howling out of hope

From this potboiling of meaning
What did you think to find?
Slowly you trawled through the debris
Proclaimed your honesty.

Blind to your self-revelation
This world of illusion
Made you forget just what you are.

We are all tall storytellers
In a land of songlines
Walking on the words of our lives.