May I allow myself to slow down
We are akrita phula
The indistinguishable masses
And this striving for individuality
Is a ubiquitous shuffling
Of the whole in endless
Endeavour for self-expression
Now you are forced
To think fast on your feet
Linear and logical thinking
That delivers immediate solutions
To well-defined problems
With ever more clever solutions
This compulsiveness is a lostness
For there is no getting to
Whether to God, or Godlikeness,
Or even deliverance, but only
Moments of unknowingness
Without expectation
To speak, read, breathe,
Think and act slowly is to
Admit helplessness and take
The initiative of stepping aside
To where you can help yourself—
The one truly conscious movement
