Too busy for
That sharp ache,
Somewhere under
This skin’s surface beating,
Far-off,
In some other reality.
Slow my breathing.
Too tired to think
About summer’s sunshine,
Laughing,
And wild grass playing
On a mountainside.
Turn my pillow over.
In the fragrance of a flower,
In the brilliance of the sun rising,
In the teasing notes of music,
Bits of beauty,
Sound-bites gnawing,
Monsters of attachment,
In the shadows of memory.
Without a word,
Or a warning,
The rain is pouring down,
Soaking the ground around me
And somewhere,
Just somewhere,
In my unknowing,
In my unwanting,
It’s okay.
KKLE November 6, 2013
hinarising 