Ever spent a long period of months when you felt life was on hold or that time had stopped, that you were sitting in the waiting room, but you didn't have a reason or a plan or knowledge? A time lacking in communication or interaction? I wrote this poem based on a feeling that I'd missed something, that there was something I didn't know, and as I was thinking about it, I started thinking about a character, who was initially gonna be a woman waiting at a station with no destination, but it turned into a guy who had written a letter to a woman who never received it. And I imagined the note as a living thing, carrying this lightness, which turned into a weight as it was never delivered. And it made me think what might have happened if she'd read it. It's a poem about missed opportunities and sixth sense, and invisibility. It's one of those. It makes you wonder how much you miss in one lifetime. It's about feeling versus knowing.
Musical
notes
tethered in
silence,
always locked
inside,
so he wrote
a note,
just for
her.
swept up by
the west wind,
caressed by
strangers’ hands,
misunderstood.
swept up in
rhythmic tides,
never heard
his story,
never knew
what he held inside.
it still
travels,
experiences
many lives,
but never
encounters love.
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