Saturday, April 26, 2008


Flights of fantasy lead me to an abyss beneath my thoughts,
Layered under my skin, skimpily clothing my vulnerabilities!
Breathless I be or become! Gasping for air when I jump…
Into the hypochondria of awareness, I lie awake and lost.
Looking at the sun outside the window space in the wall -
That I had so earnestly built around myself; My abode!
I feel the warmth glowing inside me, beyond the darkness -
That had so freely smeared itself on my trifle extents!
I see three birds flying gracefully across the calm clear sky,
Turning heads as they drift past each other, silent sarcasm -
The need to win; The greater need to have the others lose!
They float over two flowers as they fade away into the blue,
The flowers basking in the warmth, glowing in a subtle way,
Togetherness, alone in the vast void expanse of silence,
In a brittle moment held together by a little more than hope…
A hundred yards away from the silhouette of a lonely tree,
Overlooking the vivid fading world around its potent self,
And I looking at it, the smiling flowers and the flying birds,
The fading birds, the content flowers and the aging tree…
Then a little pause and I look at my own distant self,
The convergent reality of the moment slowly sinking in.


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