Poetry

Of this life

Of this life I know nothing yet
Its essence still eludes me
I reach and grasp and catch but air
I gather scraps and make them fit
But all it is is guesswork

Of myself I know even less
Though once I thought I sensed some truth
I planted it and cared for it
But before it had the chance to sprout
I dug it up and fed it to the birds

Of others then what can I know?
They pass me by, I see them glance
Sometimes our eyes lock for a second
But before I can read a single line
They disappear into the crowd

And yet when I look at the river
At the trees, the lake, the starry sky
My soul feels calm, engulfed with peace
My heart beats slowly
And I can breathe

Nov 13, 2012

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