in imperfect harmony?
why is that?
why does much work equate to little diligence,
or huge social issues to minimal connections?
When we have, we eat and drink in plentiful amounts.
when we lack,
we swallow down the dried up bud.
we drink from illusionary reservoirs.
Does the heart's impatience mean anything?
Do the heart's longings mean anything
if nothing is done?
These rain drops of distant day
still come to me.
I, under the umbrella,
camera in hand,
taking hundreds of pictures of the same scene,
over and over till there is nothing left
to capture.
what yellow beauty was that?
can I find it again?
dreams I've lost; thoughts
that I can't reclaim
the barn that collapsed, forcefully
never to house any life again.
only rain . . . and mud . . . and filth
the path was so dark . . .
so dark I thought I was blinded
At that moment I wished that
midafternoon's delight hadn't came to me,
that summer's rush would have fleeted
but now, there was no sleight of mind,
no turning from what I came to ...
surely I must go on...
inwards into the depths of the Great Forest
Nothing will touch me there . . .
not one will harm me.. .
?
