It has been the most eventful of winters. The sun has started to peek its bright nose out from under the foggy clouds and I can feel the warmth revive my pores. I am having one of those great times of my life, when everything is going at this fast yet lazy pace, when everything seems blurry, but perfect and nothing really seems troublesome anymore.
I know it will end soon, in a week or two, but in the meanwhile, I am going to bask in the soft sunrise as I drink mint tea and revel in the art of savoring time. I write a lot of poetry when I get into a mood like this. I absolutely relish and blissfully indulge myself in poetry at such times.
The poem that I am posting here is a short excerpt from my daily journal, one that reflects this mood of mine, when even the things that bothered me so intensely in the past year seem just mildly bemusing but there is still the intensity of desire woven into the words. Always.
I feel that strange pull of desire
I know it will end soon, in a week or two, but in the meanwhile, I am going to bask in the soft sunrise as I drink mint tea and revel in the art of savoring time. I write a lot of poetry when I get into a mood like this. I absolutely relish and blissfully indulge myself in poetry at such times.
The poem that I am posting here is a short excerpt from my daily journal, one that reflects this mood of mine, when even the things that bothered me so intensely in the past year seem just mildly bemusing but there is still the intensity of desire woven into the words. Always.
I feel that strange pull of desire
Again amalgamate with the fire
That lights up the flames of my being,
My subsistence, my expression, my core.
I want you, yet I do not want you anymore.
I need to be, yet I need not be near you,
Your sweet intoxicating perfume.
You are so familiar to me and yet not quite
As much as I would like.
If only I were a vision in dark molten blue,
Rallying through the midnight sky
Trying to find you, traces of you
In the ruins of my elusive sleep.
Tangled beams of my daydreams
Mingle with the ripe uncertainty
Of not knowing if I want you too.
I feel like I do, then the seasons change,
The seasons of my varying emotions.
Devils playfully rage with Angels,
Angels of sleep and Demons of fire,
Rage away under my skin,
As I try to decide or understand
Why I can no longer stand
To allow myself to want you,
Although I do, I really do.
Do enjoy the rest of the pleasant days before the ruthless summer starts to burn us into oblivion. I love that line from a LDR song called 'Gods and Monsters'. It says that Life imitates Art. Let us all try to make it so. Too-d loo.
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