Things out of your reach
Are firmly Present and
Their constant presence
Creates the illusion of absence

For these things that you pursue
First appearing close at hand
Flee faster than can be pursued

When you seem to reach them
Only transmute themselves in
The distance ahead, which
Ceaselessly grows and extends

For where you are is always
At the centre of your thoughts
The edges of which
Circumscribe your reality

Pause in your pursuits and
Look back at the country that
You have crossed as if seeing
It new for the first time

Realise that all things like the
Countless vivid, vibrant colours
That seek to thrill and excite you
Are but a single spectrum
Of ordinary light