I am a thousand blind beggars,
hands reaching out for alms.
I am a thousand passer-byes,
money clenched in fist, scurrying along.
I am the top of the mountain
where time is irrelevant
the wind, a hymn.
My soul free from the burden of investigation
My caustic contempt becomes grief
My hungry eyes close in peace
The sun, moon, deep blue seas,
contain within them,
the fractured energy that was once me.
I like this. The first four lines really grab my attention. I read it around christmas time which is really my birthday, and it seemed to capture the spirit of the season, wrote you a little comment which promptly got lost in cyber space and been searching my room for it ever since. I hope you two are fine. Jimmy
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