You stepped into eternity
Left me in time’s purgatory
I tore up my past –
It was tangled with memories of you
Future petrifies me because of the void you left within
A thousand abysmal days have trudged by,
Tell me my son,
What should I do with my time?
That neither has the need to coddle the other emotionally
Where one is at ease with the other as with oneself;
Is when the uttered word become redundant,
Joy is a heart that can feels, freedom is unshackled mind.
Swirling flakes fall from above,
Dancing around stoic street lamps – giggling, teasing
As they fall, carpeting the earth.
Cotton tufts swell from below,
Gets caught in the headlight,
Makes a beeline to the windshield – melts away.
Dancing swirls multiply,
Fills the air, obscuring vision.
Moving pods slow down, blinks intermittently;
Howling winds gather the dancing dots
Slaps it unevenly on all creation,
Blanketing everything in white.
Welcome home, weary traveler
Lay down the heavy trappings,
Wash off the weariness
Ensconce in the warmth of your abode,
Stumbling over my loneliness
When all of you lit,
Countless candles for me
The wax has melted,
The light has faded,
Yet, the dying gleam
And the smoky fragrance lingers on,
Said shallow to deep,
‘How can you be generous when you have so little?’
Said deep to shallow,
‘I have enough. I am quite content.’
‘How can you be carefree when life is terrifying in its uncertainties?’
‘I go with the ebb and flow. I learn from experience.’
‘How can you be a smiling fool, when crushed by adversity?’
Replied deep to shallow,
‘You can live to be a thousand
Yet never experience anything the way I feel.
‘When I breathe, I feel the air
You don’t even realize that you breathe
‘You can never feel the wind’s caress or the sun’s warmth
Image by Shelly Paul Wind all over me – Beating my face, slapping my hands, Whistling in the […]
Author-Skubik, A link from Wikipedia Commons page
Knuckle to knuckle she stands
Fists pressed against each other,
Elbows digging into her sides –
A bundle of nerves, as she twists around her waist.
She shrugs her shoulders, wrings her arms –
Trying to lose the butterflies.
She stares intently, at that which only she can see.
She inhales deeply as it dawns on her,
That all the time she toiled away,
Has condensed into this solitary moment.
As the spotlight shines, she must be sublime.
Time ticks mathematically. But, do we experience time with such rigidity? Here is a short poem about the difference between the clock and how we experience time.