M/United States "I'm yearning for the glory days
of most deft perfection/
My pen moving in motions
that defied known direction/
Well-placed words can swallow whole the bones of perception/
And so until these hands are cold
I'll pursue this resurrection" - VS 197 followers / 2.7k words
The winter is slowly killing her and me but on the deck by her side at the low tide the river at three is a sparkling glass feeding a belief there would be no end of us.
With her on the river Bidyadhari, Nov 5, 2017, 3 pm.
Even though I thought I was done for The sun has warmed me
The flame of my faith I thought extinguished Burns on
Even though the heavy clouds Of my confusion and my delusion Gathered and swirled To obscure the truth And the gusts of complaints Have shaken my branches To the very core
I am still here
My roots in the earth Breath in my lungs A beat in my heart
Even though I thought I was at war Anger has gone Driven to nought
Strange and mysterious Unfathomably curious New hope Arises From hidden depths Of places unvisited
Like the secret of the universe Impossibly possible Hope arises