I lost my way, when I sought your street

And then one fine day I saw myself

A dog, blinded by his master’s feet

Is close, and yet still someone else

In love? Inspired!? Enough to bend?!?

Truer to the start than to the end?

Remember, true Masters point out soon

It’s not the finger, it’s the moon

Great beauty is laid to waste

Right in front of vacant eyes

In minds that obsess with taste

Where awareness will suffice

Repeat verse

It’s not the finger, it’s the moon

Not what withers…but what blooms

-Suraj Mani