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30 May 2014


There is a bouncy ball
inside of me – bouncing
left, right, up and down –
it makes me edgy, dreamy
and twitchy – walking up
and down my living room,
talking incessantly – mostly
to myself, I reach a point

The point divides itself
into three or four paths –
I stop and look – unsure
which way is the right
way or if there is one;
if all is a matter of choice –
how to make it; a grand
old, huge tree next to me
sways with the wind –
it seems to speak to me,
whispers … rather, says words
in an unfamiliar language
and yet there is some thing
I understand in its message
- not fully though; I wait, sit
and listen – only when
I’d decipher, I’ll move on

Verse & photo: © Sanchita C 2014