I sit,
waiting for these metal vessels to take me to another land.
A land in which another life was lived,
where sorrows shaped a soul.
The chill that courses through this body freezes more than just my limbs,
for my heart remembers, while longing to forget.
Yet, I know it is all part of the lesson.
Pranayama guides me through,
meditation masks the material.
There I am left with a truth.
So, I travel back East,
with my mind in the West.
Are there islands waiting for me there?
No comments:
Post a Comment