The book
of science
says,
if the surgeon
cuts me open,
what he’ll find
is the same,
as if
you had been
on his table,
and that is
really,
the level
of creation’s
perfection,
the differences
of existence,
over
different
time periods,
or regions
or race
or colours
or intelligence
or even religions,
makes no difference,
to what lies
hidden,
beneath
this surface,
and yet we know,
each individual is,
and always
will be
different,
we coin terms
of good and bad,
and wrongs
and rights
we define too,
for our actions
differ,
inspite of
the irrefutable
existing sameness,
and I often wonder
if in this perfect
creation,
where the physical
is a constant,
could it be
that the invisible soul,
though purest
in form,
and in its goals,
is the creation’s
only
imperfection,
which drives
these differences,
but still
always has,
the freedom
to define
its own mould.
© vidursahdev 2018
