Bina Shah March 3, 1999
Tags: Reflection , Love
I.
Luminous clouds of velvet bear your name.
The rain brings a touch of the
laughing dew drops dancing on your cheeks.
I love to feel the rivers of your thoughts.
II.
In circles flow all the great rivers of our hearts,
Never in lines,
from end
to end they are joined.
We try to fashion them into shapes of our own fancy
Sometimes it seems we have succeeded
And I made pretty designs with your intentions.
But beginning and ends are stamped into our souls
They are our inheritance, passed down from ancestors born to die.
Consumed with that first great injustice
We are fated to act it out on every stage, small or large
That we tread upon.
It cannot be avoided;
Every cell in our body longs for closure,
not eternity.
I am Peter Pan, who wanted a beginning with no ending.
He flew in the sky, more lost than even the Lost Boys.
Because even the Lost Boys
At last came to an end,
Cajoled and deceived into it by Wendy, that Witch of bedtime stories and
goodnight kisses
No dreams of Mother for Peter!
A boy who has no origins can defy his fate.
III.
You should have been my confederate, my ally,
My lost child in the garden.
We could have lived together, you and I,
And we could have shared the earthworms and slugs, and tangled weeds.
But you left me in the garden when the sun went down
I looked up in the sky to find those velvet clouds
The sky was crowned with purple and orange streaks of light,
a reflection of our invulnerability
but your name was gone.
Luminous clouds of velvet bear your name.
The rain brings a touch of the
laughing dew drops dancing on your cheeks.
I love to feel the rivers of your thoughts.
II.
In circles flow all the great rivers of our hearts,
Never in lines,
from end
We try to fashion them into shapes of our own fancy
Sometimes it seems we have succeeded
And I made pretty designs with your intentions.
But beginning and ends are stamped into our souls
They are our inheritance, passed down from ancestors born to die.
Consumed with that first great injustice
We are fated to act it out on every stage, small or large
That we tread upon.
It cannot be avoided;
Every cell in our body longs for closure,
not eternity.
I am Peter Pan, who wanted a beginning with no ending.
He flew in the sky, more lost than even the Lost Boys.
Because even the Lost Boys
At last came to an end,
Cajoled and deceived into it by Wendy, that Witch of bedtime stories and
goodnight kisses
No dreams of Mother for Peter!
A boy who has no origins can defy his fate.
III.
You should have been my confederate, my ally,
My lost child in the garden.
We could have lived together, you and I,
And we could have shared the earthworms and slugs, and tangled weeds.
But you left me in the garden when the sun went down
I looked up in the sky to find those velvet clouds
The sky was crowned with purple and orange streaks of light,
a reflection of our invulnerability
but your name was gone.
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