Wednesday, August 7, 2013

If not in Medias res


It takes courage to walk away
From conflict, thinking good of those who
Did it, without knowledge of the other way;
On the green meadow, under the sky so blue.

Tough enough to keep off words when
Looks narrow down from islands oozing water,
Arrows flowing up and down from speakers so sane;
Groups, crowds, teams gift swords of words to the defaulter.

Power, is to bless being right in the mess unaware,
Not to colour alone, with hatred and flair;
Strength is where the self, nests in a state of no offence,
To see what is deep inside all alike in nothing, in silence.

It takes love to loosen the strings, shred off the wings,
Take the squeezing poem out when it sings,
Out of being in Medias res walking down the aisle;
Limping, crawling yet waking up to the smile.

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