Across the strange borders,
I see myself blooming:
in forgotten pathways,
in manicured gardens,
in bonsai artefacts,
in frozen mummies.
My eye sees the horizon...
a few dotted lines
-lines in pink, blue and green-
cast the slippery wet norms.
The me in the mirror is refracted.
They tell me, it's you.
I spread my hands
and follow my master,
floating in the air,
above the anomalies of the self:
as I float by your universe,
memoirs of the road
sting my feet
...
I was so sure
I touched me in you
photograph: Himalayas, Uttarakhand, India; self
3 comments:
Beautiful, verses creates images, was lost in an unreal it real world through this poem, realised how sight and sounds of the surroundings are smeared in your memories and are reborn when you read poetry like this.
Cheers
"I was so sure / I touched me in you" - I think this is the crux - you became one with the place, so the last and lasting glance was not that of a farewell but of a deeper understanding of bond between you and the place that triggered it. Beautiful
thank you both of you ...
just an input ... this picture didnot inspire the poetry, the picture merely accompanies the poem since i had no other image which could speak as the title...
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