I cannot dream of London,
With its streets dusted with symbolic gold and grandeur,
Carrying the emblem of modern capitalism-
Drowned in the illusion of luxury and governed by the laws of relentless consumerism.
I cannot dream of a city engulfed in the false hopes and promises of the material world
A land of superficiality embellished in a heavenly aura, safe from the harsh reality of suffering that exists-
happening to estranged, much too far-away ‘others’, pushed
beyond the limit of human recognition and sympathy.
I cannot dream of a city that idealises the mindless state of mind,
the senseless sensibility, the alienation from the purpose of our human soul,
the forgetting of the sacredness of life.
I would rather dream of a green field soaked in the sun’s rays
Connecting with something other than the illusory, hopeless side of me, my ego.
Surround me with the fresh morning breeze and the gentleness and grace
found in a bird’s wild flight,
And not with the so-called wonders of the samsara.
I will cherish the embrace of the spirit, the recognition of oneness and
the courage in love.
Bare feet and open heart, naked chest and clear eyes,
False promises and laws washed away
Stripping the humanity in me bare of the tragedy we face-
the masks we wear, fooling ourselves that we are anything other than
pure, divine sparkles of the cosmos
Fooling ourselves that we do not have a privilege from birth:
Is the path of most resistance.
And even so,
The wild soul can only stay tamed for so long
Before it rages and claims its privilege;
The spirit will break through.
Human consciousness was meant for this.
So I cannot dream of London, a hotspot of an oppressed world, the site of a global illusion, the object of delusory longings.
Give me all of nature instead, awakening liberation.