Tuesday, October 29, 2019

A Pause to Wait

The code goes through the code,
Each phone finds a singular soul
To rustle the great unremembered.

The walls powered too by the current of thought
That glows in the lamps, more than alive,
Holding what's been seen, the feel of history.

We endure these cold illuminations,
Shape them to desires,
Sense the distant harbingers of home.

And the birds converse about the same enthralling sky,
The loudspeaker announces what does not exist,
The train rides fire to a point of complete stillness.