Sat on the couch this morning,
Legs curled up, head in one hand.
Glanced across
To the table at
Work waiting for me,
Thought about family I should call.
But felt a spectacular urge to do
Nothing. Resisted the impulse for
Half a minute. Then looked out the
Window to the shy garden
Beyond where it was easy to
See a neighbour mow his lawn
Composing parallel lines of
Domestic pride, his spectacles
Catching the early sun like
Flashing camera shutters.
Nearer, a bird abandoned a
Quivering branch that
Scratched against the glass
As first drops of rain fell
Upon my roof, an undersong of
Sadness, a subsong of peace.
Would I live my life once more (or twice)
Waste irreversible time
Make the same mistakes?
Yes, given a sliver
Of a chance
All over again.
to think a lot. on the other side of my mind, an emptiness embraces me. coming back is leaving a part of us by the way.
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Hmm… that’s an interesting thought. However, do you not gain other parts along the way? so that the result is an even better whole.
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the way is made by parts, and we build each one of them. and this is our greatest gain: we live to the end.
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So lovely. Peaceful.
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❤ thanks.
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My pleasure. 🙂
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“Nearer, a bird abandoned a
Quivering branch that
Scratched against the glass
As first drops of rain fell”
That’s quite a picture you created here. Good one!
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Thanks, Sundaram, glad you enjoyed it.
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