The Lost Axe

When the axe of a nobleman was lost

Through his mind many thoughts crossed

He suspected a boy living in his own street

Whose behaviour was certainly that of a cheat

Just a week before

That boy had come to live next door

He said to himself, “when I first saw that boy

He looked just like a swindler and decoy”

A few days later while removing the hay sacks

The nobleman found his ‘stolen’ axe

In his own possession the axe had always been

That boy came out absolutely clean

Next day he saw that boy again

Nothing negative was processed by his brain

As a normal lad he did appear

A thief’s look he certainly did not bear

Like an active agent works an ordinary mind

Imaginary things it can always find

As a mirror it does not act

It has the capacity to distort a fact

It can easily colour reality

False it can readily invent and see

That boy remains the same

In-between the mind played many a game

Unless we remove the layer of illusion

We are liable to reach wrong conclusion

Truth can only be revealed

Off when all maya is peeled