Sometimes it seems that the touch of maze
Gloss, freedom, marriage, daemonhood is
More than the touch of today -- now -- is.
I am torn between delight in the power of myth
Of love, of heritage, of the power of mage
Mythology, irish, scottish, welsh, truth at large
And is, now, no story, being without delusion
Without story, true to now, without extra
Descriptions of something that doesn't exist
Do I reject the loss of mystery and mythos
Or reject the delusion of nothingness and story
Or can I join them into love and magic and truth
I don't know
I can't choose
Love and myth and delusion
In the east they call it Maya, an illusion and a beautiful illusion. I'm still with Neitzche on this. The Buddhists teach us that its all an illusion but that doesn't mean that we can't enjoy it. ;)
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