Him

 

 

Upon a clear morn I set out

To find the self I’d lost for long.

No further had I gone than

The stream that passes near

The structure that houses me.

 

I looked upon him clear as ever,

Staid yet in the flowing waters.

He looked back in equal intensity,

It seemed like I was the illusion,

And he who stared back, reality.

 

I tried to reason, to talk with

Sense that years brought in effort.

He would not listen; plainly put,

He spoke only when I chose to say

A few words and sought fewer.

 

Playfully around me, was all else-

The air, the birds, the fish et al

Unaware, blissfully, of conflicts

That reflect upon a clear stream,

But alas, only for so long today.

…