On through the ripples,
Through the shunts and the brushes,
The flickering chants,
The whispered gloom.
I walked, in a still coldness,
Watching in through the firm, glass panes
Of this pavement I made.
There stood three evil eyes
Perched high with a burning, solemn glare
Clad in black.
I stood with living numbness,
Drowned in the rain;
Exempt from their shelter
But Separate from their cave.
My walk was long,
Soon I saw the clouds part;
I gazed, perhaps glided into the blue depth.
The soulful reflection painted within the bay-shaped sapphire,
Too long had I ignored myself…
Depicting a girl, content in her smile
But mirrored by her counterpart.
I suddenly became aware
How rain and sun fall from the same sky.
The hush of the oak branches,
Passing through the park;
Reminded of the ease of empty summers;
Where my eyes couldn't reach the gate.
I turned a corner to the child’s trumpet,
Hollow with smiles
The off and empty notes
Passed right through me.
Was she, blissfully lost to her tune,
Or lost in the dissection of each note?
Lost in the mimicking of each line?
Lost, so that in the process, the bigger meaning faded.
This world holds its breath
In a struggle.
I step alone,
Across stone and soft earth,
Between kindled mirth:
In this summer losing its youth.
This day, this deep
Meander of thought,
Where I looked at the world to find myself.
Then I was laughing at my difference.
Here is the number to my door,
To The World beyond.
For Fragment competition
2nd September 2013