May the path, from which I stray,
Be narrow,
But may my route,
My openness of heart
And my capacity for love,
Be broad,
May my meanderings,
Always take me to preordained places,
Sights I needed to take in,
Travellers who change my outlook,
May my map book be all the sweeter to me,
For all my wonderings,
May my returns to the way,
Be frequent,
And joyful
And may my destination,
Never change,
In all my roaming,
And dreams.
Back to the heart.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Born (Low Hanging Fruit)
He was borne on a branch The low hanging fruit Of the curse The bushel that hung from nails Trellising tight stems to the frame Spurs offer...
-
I find the cool channels between buildings where the wind finds flow, This breeze block, asphalt, concrete complex, Where the radiance of ...
-
When honest becomes your brand, you'd better shut up shop The truth of you for sale, the under hand slides up top, Your candour on dema...
-
This master-work of yours, This magnum opus, This poiema, Is sat in his underpants In a neglected and untidy flat, Typing on a laptop he bou...
As I read this, music seemed to be trying to attach itself to the lines. Ever thought of collaborating with someone to write songs?
ReplyDelete