Tempest

Friday, 23 February 2007

Ripples in the water

Who do I fool?
Not you...only I.
Why do I try,
tis' I who live in denial.
Today, like every other day
I wake up empty and frightened.
Today, unlike every other day
I stop to listen
the voice, strings of familiarity pull me towards it
not the voice of sloth, nor of lethargy
nor of human exhaustion
just an old voice I once used to trust
don't open the door to the study and begin reading
The voice is mine
why then do I not trust its heed?
Why then do I doubt the wisdom in its deed?
For years I hadn't heard it
for years the study had diminished its sounds
but today, unlike every other day
it bound me in the repetition of its bleed
don't open the door to the study and begin reading,
take down a musical instrument,
take forward a piece of chess in the morrow,
take, build with a brick stone,
let the beauty we love be what we do,
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Posted by Pavitra :: 16:47 :: 6 comments