Friends,
I am constantly in awe (read: shock) of our ability to acquire, to possess, and to surround ourselves by things. I am also constantly torn between my own egotistical desire to own things and my higher desire to minimize, simplify, and become unattached. In another lifetime, perhaps I could live as a monk would, with few possessions and few earthly needs beyond basic sustenance. For now, I am still drawn to mindless entertainment and material acquisitions. Still, I offer my dream, my
~Two Cents~
Perhaps I've no right to speak
Having been born in the spring of life
Grown up in the summer
And never having known a fall or winter,
But I find it ever so strange how we do
What we do with a face of false confidence
of quiet hibernation
And march like ants toward our certainties without
even being able to look them in the face.
For our brood we acquire ever larger houses
Stock them full of trinkets and comforts.
Things we may never use in our life times
... just in case.
Though food is scarce- a dream for many-
We hoard our edibles in multiple freezers,
Lined up along multiple shelves
... just in case.
We keep piles of money in unbreakable safes,
with our jewels and diamonds locked up in banks
Or else entrust it to the grabbing hands of our progeny
... just in case.
Just in case?
Of nuclear disaster?
Of a crippling disease?
Of death?
My friends, it matters not!
We live and die by our mighty coin
Dress ourselves in finery, attempt to embroider
Our very soul with silk and beads
Put on it a lovely hat
And walk into the sunlight
Wobbly, in our newly- cobbled shoes.
And there we must die.
A slow, painful death, as each precious thing
Is taken away and burned into infinity.
As is inevitable...
As we all know.
Once the materials are done, then go the loved ones
The parents, friends, and lovers.
The blood of our blood will eventually disappear,
Leaving us gasping in the dust,
Despairing our very lives.
Though it was we who weighed our souls down
To begin with.
It is only she who walks naked
Honest, and with nothing to burden her,
No string to keep her tied in place,
And comforted only by the raiments of love-
Only she walks away untouched
Unscathed in that sunlight
Hand in hand
With its very rays.
~Poonam Desai
I am constantly in awe (read: shock) of our ability to acquire, to possess, and to surround ourselves by things. I am also constantly torn between my own egotistical desire to own things and my higher desire to minimize, simplify, and become unattached. In another lifetime, perhaps I could live as a monk would, with few possessions and few earthly needs beyond basic sustenance. For now, I am still drawn to mindless entertainment and material acquisitions. Still, I offer my dream, my
~Two Cents~
Perhaps I've no right to speak
Having been born in the spring of life
Grown up in the summer
And never having known a fall or winter,
But I find it ever so strange how we do
What we do with a face of false confidence
of quiet hibernation
And march like ants toward our certainties without
even being able to look them in the face.
For our brood we acquire ever larger houses
Stock them full of trinkets and comforts.
Things we may never use in our life times
... just in case.
Though food is scarce- a dream for many-
We hoard our edibles in multiple freezers,
Lined up along multiple shelves
... just in case.
We keep piles of money in unbreakable safes,
with our jewels and diamonds locked up in banks
Or else entrust it to the grabbing hands of our progeny
... just in case.
Just in case?
Of nuclear disaster?
Of a crippling disease?
Of death?
My friends, it matters not!
We live and die by our mighty coin
Dress ourselves in finery, attempt to embroider
Our very soul with silk and beads
Put on it a lovely hat
And walk into the sunlight
Wobbly, in our newly- cobbled shoes.
And there we must die.
A slow, painful death, as each precious thing
Is taken away and burned into infinity.
As is inevitable...
As we all know.
Once the materials are done, then go the loved ones
The parents, friends, and lovers.
The blood of our blood will eventually disappear,
Leaving us gasping in the dust,
Despairing our very lives.
Though it was we who weighed our souls down
To begin with.
It is only she who walks naked
Honest, and with nothing to burden her,
No string to keep her tied in place,
And comforted only by the raiments of love-
Only she walks away untouched
Unscathed in that sunlight
Hand in hand
With its very rays.
~Poonam Desai
Absolutely love this poem! We must share more of our writings sometime. Our paths were definitely meant to cross, looking forward to getting to know one another even more...guess this means many trips back and forth between Dallas and Houston in our future!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sara! Definitely want to hear more of your writing! So exciting to have someone to share with!
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