Dust

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

14 comments

  1. Nice and deep words penned.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Kamal, for penning this nice comment.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Welcome dear friend.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Very very beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, thank you, Nico, really appreciate your lovely response.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. That last line stayed me. In the most wonderful way. Thank You, Vera. ❤️❤️❤️

    Like

    1. ❤ Thank you, Katy.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Try finding an end in that circle… loved the poem…. Always thought provoking, you lr words Vera…:-)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much, Sundaram. I’ve missed your writing.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. 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…🖖🤘🖖

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Okay, hope everything is all right, looking forward to reading you soon.

          Liked by 1 person

        2. Yes better…sure soon…✌✌

          Liked by 1 person

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