Tagged: love
A Love Poem
Imprisoned
My essential being is in prison,
Flesh imprisons me, fresh cells
Lock me up each day, I am filled
With fear that I will never be free.
Nothing else. Fear from my lungs:
My songs are dead songs;
Fear from my throat: my words
Are numb and unborn. Fear
From my heart: my love
Is withered and weeping.
Through the bars, in the sky
A symbol of freedom –
Through my thoughts,
Shiva in each cell
Is freedom.
Om Nama Shivaya
Is my idiom.
Stop – Continued
My self is stopped to see
If stopping matters more
Than thankfulness,
More than jobs and the wages
From those jobs, more than
Every love that needs protection;
If stopping can be reinvented –
Some physical law to present
It as a pleasure to be got
Or an illusion that does not
Have to be disturbed.
If the dream of life is to be still;
If the stopping is the stillness
That some have spoken of.