Home
Not of this world, nor quite home
I journey unknown,familiar paths,seemingly alone,
Teeter on the edge of the precipice,
Desirous to fly,
Chained by my own delusions of being the doer and these triple ropes that tie,
The I , the mine and my,
The glimmer of what can be,
When ,of these ropes, I shall be free,
That trembling flame of knowledge that flickers and flares,
Refuses to be put out by all the mind's snares,
A premonition ,that I can return to that place that was home,once,
A fleeting understanding perhaps,but not the experience.
--shubha
Not of this world, nor quite home
I journey unknown,familiar paths,seemingly alone,
Teeter on the edge of the precipice,
Desirous to fly,
Chained by my own delusions of being the doer and these triple ropes that tie,
The I , the mine and my,
The glimmer of what can be,
When ,of these ropes, I shall be free,
That trembling flame of knowledge that flickers and flares,
Refuses to be put out by all the mind's snares,
A premonition ,that I can return to that place that was home,once,
A fleeting understanding perhaps,but not the experience.
--shubha
No comments:
Post a Comment