Citta

[Chandra]

The mind is driving again, round the bend,
into the ditch, careening for the County Fair.
She is out of control, like a child in a toy store.

She is mesmerized by the sights,
the sounds, the textures of the world.
She wants to know, to explore, to discover!
Limitlessly she reaches,
in constant motion, like a ship upon the sea.

I used to let her drive me.
She used to drive me mad
with her ceaseless hunting;
prowling and pouncing on shadows
like a cat let out of doors.

She drove me away with her flights of fantasy.
I found myself, paralyzed by vertigo;
like looking through the wrong end of a telescope
from a hot air balloon.

When she drove, I was driven to distraction
and wheeled in circles,
like a dog chasing it's tail.

But now I choose to stay home
when she goes for a ride.
She enjoys them better that way,
and I don't feel carsick.

When she returns home
and tells me about her adventure,
I can enjoy the tale,
without being taken for a ride.

Copyright Chandra 2002