No, let me have this ash
This fistful of grey powder, dryly littering
These verses moving like blood from the heart
Running fiercely back along the arteries, or
Like trains
On an inner city circle, every station
One stop nearer to the end, and then
One farther away, if you could talk about an end
In that circle
Even when now and again
I miss the intrusion of prowling events to the eyes
When now and again
I long for connection with another voice
For return to the tenuous and tangible world
What I actually choose time after time are
These phrases, these thoughts, meditations on song
Wherefrom now and again the soul sprouts, tender and wet
Nice and deep words penned.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kamal, for penning this nice comment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Welcome dear friend.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very very beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, thank you, Nico, really appreciate your lovely response.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. That last line stayed me. In the most wonderful way. Thank You, Vera. ❤️❤️❤️
LikeLike
❤ Thank you, Katy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Try finding an end in that circle… loved the poem…. Always thought provoking, you lr words Vera…:-)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Sundaram. I’ve missed your writing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me too my friend… struggling through some very tough time on personal front… In chaos… But I will come back as soon as I can…🖖🤘🖖
LikeLiked by 1 person
Okay, hope everything is all right, looking forward to reading you soon.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes better…sure soon…✌✌
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great!
LikeLiked by 1 person