A door opens if the doer can dissolve

This includes the one making the resolve

Turning from this pocket of energy

Cannot be done in a reverie

The doer craves an experience

Nothing’s spared, not even penance

Experiences rarely teach the essentials

That’s surrendering the experiencer’s credentials

The doer hides behind a picture frame

Called the mind, the other name

The images change by the second

Enchanting the doer, as experiences beckon

Experiences, the doer can’t easily turn away

Witnessing them will convince it is just a play

Realizing the divide is a well-crafted myth

To the witness, the doer can be done away with