Gehazi Muduli | + Follow Poet |
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KAREN

When I walk down the paths that wind 
Through the canyons of my mind, 
I find mystic scrolls of wishes and dreams, 
Floating on Destiny’s streams.
Never shall these dreams and wishes 
Be abandoned, forgotten Fishes; 
But they shall be accepted, 
As long as they remain wishes not granted 
And dreams unachieved, 
Because accepting things we cannot change is maturity as perceived 
By poets of old.
Written in ink of Gold 
On these mystic scrolls is a sweet name. 
Karen is the name.

When I look at the Valley of Tears without a wink, 
I see that all the living drink 
From the Goblet of Life in which 
There is a blinding sparkle, which 
Overflows and leaves many deceived. 
Dreams unachieved 
And wishes not granted 
Are but a few of the many seeds planted, 
Of the Herb of Bitterness
That grows both in height and thickness, 
In the Goblet of Life. Only those of the crop 
That drink from the Goblet with hope, 
Shall find nourishment in the Herb of Bitterness. 
Hope that, in another place – a place of happiness –, 
In another time, and in another life, 
The blinding sparkle in the Goblet of Life 
Shall be true. 
In the name of all that is just and true.

When I listen to the familiar sound 
Of the anvil resound 
At the Forge of Life, the human heart; 
I am filled with awe by the art 
Used in forging immeasurable hopes, feelings, wishes, fears, dreams, anxieties, treacheries,
And timeless memories. 
Karen you are indispensable. 
As part of my anvil at the Forge of Life, you are dependable – 
The anvil that has given shape to my most treasured thoughts 
Ever forged without faults.

Time, 
The most Faithfull witness of them all, 
The fairest judge of them all, 
The greatest teacher of them all, 
The kindest healer of the all, 
And the most merciless killer of the all, 
Will tell them all, 
That these words I sing to you today, I mean then all, 
To the end of time.

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