In a small room, in the afternoon, as you close the door.
An open window, casts its bright vibrant shadows, onto the soft carpeted floor.
In the plight, of the night, As you stroll the streets of New Paltz.
A small Bombay cat, shines its blackened furry silhouette, onto the stark smothered asphalt.
You take for granted the complexity, of the objective subjectivity, You beg and plead, that you need, more due to its simplicity.
The beauty of duality, though an illusion it is truly. Open your eyes, pray the divine, take mercy on ur piety.