Across

Across these miles I wish you well,
May nothing haunt your heart but sleep.
May you not sense what I dont tell,
May you not dream, or doubt, or weep.

May what my pen this peaceless day
writes on this page not reach your soul
Till its deferred print lets you say,
It speaks to someone else than you.

-Vikram Seth

I could use this as a dedication for almost anything I write, so figured I'd put it in here :)
The words of my favorite poet, describing almost everything I write (and I like to imagine he'd say the same of his own work :) )

Blind

Arms outstretched we stand,
Fingertips spanning unity to infinity,
We move all there is.
Yet we stand, afraid to look
beyond our feet and our selves-
Why are we so scared?
Blindness brings fearlessness.

Old lessons, renewed

We walk down the roads of life with old friends and enemies, always hand in hand with both. Demons to be conquered are not distant windmills looming terror, a la Don Quixote- the worst demons are the small shadows that cling to our feet- weightless little things that we'd never observe, yet strong enough to pull us down. Strip them off and loose their grip, then we look up to find that the windmills were only their reflections in the pools of our fear.

This song I brought home today-
Did you like it?
It walked a long way
through heat and dust,
Watered by saltwater tears and little else,
Fed only dreams, and thoughts and whispered prayer-
A stranger to rest and quiet it is.
This song I brought home today-
Did you like it?



Let it rest a little here,
it will soon move on-
To greener pastures and fuller thoughts
Soon, it will go.

Invisible

In your rejection of me, I am once again the child that wasn’t wanted in the game. The odd one out- a little slower to race, a little more observant, a little easier to hurt; Maybe I was naïve in believing, like a child, that love solves all these issues. Will eight year old feelings never be assuaged by twenty-five’s accomplishments? Does love mean I will never feel unloved again?

Un-anchored by the ties of love, my spirit floats weightless, a little harder to touch, to understand. I am the wind, leaves dance night-time whirls within me. I linger over a lover’s soul, weighing it down with all my childhood grief. I see her pause and wonder over the sudden rush of tears my favorite poet inspired, but, unasked, I offer no explanation. Love might demand why I cry over these words, but tonight there are no questions, no reasons for my being. And so I am not, and I walk invisible through all my days and all my nights. Invisible, intangible, transparent- Soft, subtle, quiet, yet strong and bold, is what you call me. Always and mostly alone is what I call myself.