Under the murky water of consciousness,

there are one or more, even a shoal of fish.

On the bank,I sit, a  brooding moon on it, reflects,

looks like it swims in the sins of clouds,

My fish-line and hook lay limp on the grass bank,

I've to catch the fish,the line is strong, baits ready,

But I am enamored by the moon's reflected glory

on the water,a lover of the moon, I'd love to catch

as much fish,without breaking the watery moon.

To forgo the love of illusions,keep focused and wait.

deep inside one has to decide,what to seek from life

whether to walk the hard path where  wisdom trees line up,

or heartily be regaled by the pyrotechnics of apparitions.