The muse of Maya

Maya – the quintessential epitome of love, compassion and patience,

Often wonders, is she a highflier, or the so-called statue of brilliance;

She traded hours of her sleep, comfort and indulgence

For a more meaningful existence and a lifetime of self-reliance.

 

As she stepped out of her abode one morning,

She saw the handful of name tags, slanders and blames approaching;

Someone called her indolent and impervious, while another questioned her right to freedom,

Does she really need to stop by, and justify her cause to these defamers and wardens of fiefdom?

 

There she arrives, at the threshold of independence, integrity and individuality

And decides to call it a day, and be labelled as slothful, egotistic and petty;

Rather than spend an epoch, trying to perfect the art of managing the strife,

And keep everyone contented and informed, and jeopardise her paradise called life.

For now, its she, pleased at her choices, proud of her triumphs,

Waiting to soar into the next journey of fulfilment and oomph;

The world is the perpetual dais, with a vast audience,

The woman is ready to take a bow for her eminence.