First Guru Amardas' shabad that has the most elegant definition of Maya in my view. It comes from Anand Sahib (Pauri 29). Following my interpretation, I am sharing the poems I have written that are inspired by this shabad.
Eh māyā
This is Maaya,
jit har visrai
by which Hari is forgotten …
moh upjai
by which greed arises …
bhāo dūjā lāyā
by which duality attaches.
Jaisee agan udar meh
taisee bāhar māyā
As is the fire within the womb,
so is Maya outside
Māiā agan sabh iko jehee
kartai khel rachāyā
The fire of Maya is one and the same
the Creator has staged this play
Jā tis bhāṇā tā jamiā
parvār bhalā bhāyā
Divine order results in birth
and the family is very pleased.
Liv chhuṛkee lagee trisnā
māiā amar vartāyā
Love wears off, attachments trap
Maya runs limitless
Kahai Nānak gur parsādī
jinā liv lāgee
tinee viche māyā pāyā
By Guru's Grace,
those who are enrapt in love
find Hari within Maya
Eh māyā jit har visrai moh upjai bhāo dūjā lāyā
Kahai Nānak gur parsādī jinā liv lāgee tinee viche māyā pāyā
The Story of the Wrong Petal
Once I played a wrong note
in Raag Ramkali—
the raag that sprouts
love of wholeness.
One finger slipped,
a small rebellion on the string,
and I could hear sirens
of the raag-police.
Yet the note kept opening—
like a heart
breaking into bloom.
For a moment I wondered:
how could this be any different
from Anandkali—joy itself, sprouting?
Afterwards the tanpura
kept breathing
its ancient tale: yes.
Choosing Petals
The fire that burns us within
is not unlike what chars the world.
- Guru Amardas
More dangerous than those
who believe God is seated
on some distant seventh sky,
and perhaps even more fickle
than those who think
He is sitting quietly beside us,
are those who decide
the only place He sits
is on a mitochondrial throne
within us. It begins
with a small preference—
a petal over the flower,
a daisy over a wild spring,
a season over the one sun
that burns without choosing.
Maya, Holding Love’s Hand
This morning I considered your hand in mine
the way one considers weather—
a warmth arriving
that leaves with its pockets full of light.
My chai cooled while I thought about
the thousand songs of forever,
of two people holding on.
Then an ancient bard cleared his throat
from somewhere behind the Bhagavad Gita
hummed a single note:
love ends but never maya.
Outside, a couple passed, hand in hand,
while the wind turned one leaf into two.
Magic of Maya
Once I saw a magician
stretch one red ribbon
and suddenly there are two.
Today I watched a baby lizard
slide out of its parent
in an Instagram video,
landing on a thin branch
as if the tree itself
had just invented it.
What could be
more magical
than birth?
Especially one followed by no school,
no rehearsal, just climbing
already without eyes.
The ancient bard claims
Maya makes two out of one.
And what about death?
Death, that lizard still clinging
to the branch long after the tree
has turned back into earth.
Even more
magical
than birth.
The First Separation
The first thing that happens to us
is eviction.
Someone lifts us into the light,
cuts our cord to our origin,
and suddenly the world has edges—
your body here,
your mother — somewhere else
already being called someone other.
Eh Maya!
And from that moment on
everyone encourages the distance.
They give us mirrors,
names,
opinions about what belongs to us.
The world becomes a long lesson
in the word mine.
My shoes.
My thoughts.
My problems.
Maya!
By the time we grow up
we are excellent at being separate—
little islands with excellent Wi-Fi.
The ancient bard once
appeared in the name
of ever-serving and
sang the song of anand,
the song of joy!
Right here,
inside this very body
made of dust and grocery lists
and the occasional headache,
there is a door
that does not lead outward.
Eh Maya!
It opens inward.
And when the throat loosens—
just a little—
a song slips through
and suddenly
the walls between things
forget their jobs.
The body remembers the ocean
it was briefly separated from,
and for a few minutes
while the note is traveling,
mother, child, world, breath—
everything
is singing the same line.
Eh Maya
Singing oneness!
