Where thoughts and dreams entwine,
A question stirs, both yours and mine,
Isn’t the witness, just a witnessing?
A paradox profound, in truth, unveiling.

Beyond the mind’s relentless dance,
Where ego, self, and concepts prance,
A glimpse into the mystic’s trance,
Reveals a truth, a cosmic chance.

The witness, a silent, formless seer,
Awakens in the stillness, clear,
A mirror to the world, it peers,
With eyes unclouded, free from fear.

No thinker, knower, or separate soul,
The witness merges, plays its role,
A vessel for the cosmos’ scroll,
Unfolding tales from the eternal whole.

It is a deep insight, for it reveals,
That who we are, the truth conceals,
Beyond the ego’s grasp and ideals,
Lies a boundless, vast, and endless field.

To see the witness, just a witnessing,
Is to dissolve the dualistic clinging,
To understand the unity, the bringing,
Of the self into the cosmic singing.

In this insight, a truth profound,
The boundaries of self start to unwind,
As ego’s grip begins to unbind,
The witness and witnessed, intertwined.

No longer separate, they merge and flow,
In the river of existence, they both bestow,
A oneness deep, a luminous glow,
The answer to the question, we come to know.

So, let’s ponder this insight rare,
And in the silence, become aware,
Isn’t the witness, just a witnessing?
In this realization, a truth so liberating.