Empty world

The world, mad, happy, friction,
constant commotion,
but what is really there?
No self, no one, empty.
Arising, passing, moments,
of joy, of sadness, happiness, anger,
yet, who experiences it all?
No self, no one, empty.
How can it be said so?
Look closely …
In the forms, is there a self?
In sensations, is there a self?
In perceptions, is there a self?
In mental formations, is there a self?
In consciousness, is there a self?
Notice the interactions, interplay,
of these things, endless continuity.
Who is there?
No self, no one, empty.
Some say illusion, but no,
the world is real,
visible, tangible, audible,
tasty, heard, and experienced.
And the secret?  What do beings long for?
Why, to see clearly,
this magic of continuous dance,
then, independent of illusion,
unshakable peace, laughter.

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