Moonlight-sweet, a partridge is bewildered;
In the hope of You she orbits firmament.
In gist only are her expeditions;
With intent fruitless, she returns to nest.
Within her capacity is ambrosia's flavor–
Endeavor with aspirant is tied up in unison;
She gives chase but nothing does she register,
Holding in mind the moon of a remote realm.
I am understanding the ancient axiom–
This lunar crescent waits for mind's infusion;
Aggregating psyche, creating a portrait,
On the mental mirror, it's just that I witness.
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In the external world He may be real, but that reality will never come within grasp.
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