Spiritual Fluff
Words float like feathers
in the market of enlightenment—
soft, glowing, harmless.
“Peace,” they whisper.
“Light,” they promise.
“Awaken now.”
But truth does not arrive
wrapped in scented phrases.
Truth is a silent room
where the self must sit
without decoration.
It is the mirror
that refuses to flatter.
Spiritual fluff is the perfume
sprayed upon the ego.
Real spirituality
is the slow fire
that burns the ego away.
Between these two paths
lies the difference
between dreaming
and waking.
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