For a moment
there was a cacophony of crows
as the temperature cooled and the darkness grew
At totality
a cheer from the watchers
and the brightest stars shone through
And then
like all fleeting things
it passed, returning the daylight to view
Tag: Poetry
The Shallow End
Here is the lesson learnt:
Within the soil of your heart
Sow salt
Let nothing grow
Let it tick away the hours
Quietly, alone
Tighten the gaps in the wall
And lock the gate
And---
Wait.
Wait!
WAIT!
...
This one's hot tho
Sanskrit
96 words for love
Could you imagine?
Being able to understand
with immediacy
if someone is describing
their affection for sweets
or a sweetheart?
To understand if it is general
or familial
or devotional
or sexual?
How much more meaning
if I knew the exact word
to describe this thing
this mad, eternal longing
devotion beyond devotion’s due
so difficult to express
it is like how the ocean
pulls to the moon
or the flower
faces the sun
It is as neverending
and vast
as the outward flung stars
spreading across the universe
hurtling into the emptiness
of beyond.
My only hope is entropy.
Split Ends
There's no real repair for a split end
except for a snip.
Ideal to catch it early
before the damage travels
fraying and weakening the whole strand,
ruining all of what came before.
Perhaps I am at fault,
for proper care would have
prevented such.
But that is hindsight and now there is
split end after split end.
Too many build -
perhaps it would be better
to chop it all off
and start fresh.
Holding on is sometimes a sunk cost fallacy.
Learn to let go.
No Regrets
that idealized love
which fuels us
(all of us
in the secret places of our hearts
that we do not admit)
exists
But it is:
not always returned;
not always understood;
not always perfect;
not immune to the ravages
of the mortal coil.
Here is a miracle:
that all of the generations existed
that your mother met your father
and through happenstance
whether sorrowful or beautiful
you existed.
that through all the ages, wars, and devastations
my line of ancestors persevered
and led to me.
that somehow, despite the breadth and width and depth
of the whole of the world
we met.
through some small twist of fate
we might not have been
and yet we are.
Existing to meet,
meeting itself –
a miracle.
And yet
love returned is rare.
Yes, it’s not fair.
But we all know the rules of the game
and the rewards
and the worth behind the risk.
mehryment 