what are you holding on to
Those ideas, plans, views
opinions of what all under the sky
For waters carry no words.
not a single verse.
And every made-up belief
adds a white-picket fence
around your distraction fields.
What are you holding on to?
Sink deep, into
spaces that make you quiet.
Dig old forsaken pleasures out,
those fragile bits of absolute silence.
You don’t have to answer it.
But you see – what’ll be, will be
and no reason,
no strength of a grip
ever made a difference.
Allow yourself to remember, in the silence of rain
When stories hush over fields of forgotten dreams
And earthy smell of wet ground, briefly, takes you home
Allow yourself to remember, in the presence of laughter
Where inhales meet exhales on that bitter-sweet border
Of everything that is, and everything that hasn’t become
Allow yourself to remember, when darkness pulls you close
Whispering night terrors whilst dawn holds back
And starless skies make you wonder if price came too high
Allow yourself to remember, as age and diamonds pile
Whenever destiny confirms that her grip allows no escape
Allow yourself to remember me, in moods of the heart, sometimes
Across time and distance, it waits
For us to slow down and see it for what it is;
Ties, invisible, have a character and patience of their own.
Weighed down by baggage, we hustle ourselves
Into the known – or that which we deem knowable
Where minds produce realities of our liking
And we get to ignore forces of nature, including our own.
Across time and distance, few bonds survive
Like cacti in a desert that need no water to bloom
In lonely landscapes that penetrate our existence.
I can’t tell if our orbits shall run into one another again, or
Whether our circumstances will be aligned.
But I sit here watching the invisible link
Between us: a trail intact while we’re still strangers.
Across time and distance, you make me smile.
Was it what you knew
That drew you away?
Was it that we weren’t aware?
Our arc of togetherness
Is burdened by all said, or unsaid;
We forgot how to be.
Silence and secrets –
Sly balms and weapons –
Too long to aid, too short to awaken
Make us opposing figures
In a stalemate game.
Inevitably time flow will
End mutual deafness.
Or innate pulsation of piled decades.
Do you, too, blame me?
We are love stuck in a maze, seeking the line
Of rich and of poor patience.
Making me blind
To the border between
Matter of daylight and
Experience of sleep.
Which one to awaken from?
Closed in a loop,
Waiting leaves my side
And I descend,
With gravity of my being,
Into the crack.
Now there is silence; convincing, dense.
A roadblock of dread: anxieties on what’s to come fueled by wrongs of times past. Next to the lumpy heap on sunless asphalt rests actuality and its plain might flees our naked eyes.
A playback of thoughts doesn’t still. Time drips like wax on flame.
Adrift in wakeful ages, I can’t locate the exit from the state of stand-by. Again and again, providence mulls if past our barricade awaits a second chance.