Mysteries of life

Street lights through blinds at night.

Write it all out.

Pour forth what you can
from that muddied heart
struggling to push through the mediocrity and nothingness
that has deprived you of creative expression
for weeks and months that torment your perceived poetic identity.

Look at the light that shines in;
In through moist glass
and open blinds,
the magic of street lights at night
entering a room,
the gentle glow interrupted by moving shadows –
trees swaying
in the wind that beckons the coming rain.

something primal within you,
triggered by those lights,
memories unreachable by mind,
but warm and familiar to soul…
a throwback to something from your earliest days,
pulling your heart back to that un-named bliss
whenever those lights meet your sight.

Deep in the recesses of history,
unable to recall just where or when you encountered this light before;
perhaps in toddlerhood,
reminding of the oldest dream you know,
where crickets and a tractor
somehow merged into a muddled night
in a ground floor flat
in the first home you ever knew.

No use struggling to know
why the feelings keep coming back.
But it’s ok,
because the mind
and its logic and its words
doesn’t need to comprehend
what the heart knows is true.

accept the mysteries of life,
find comfort in feeling over rational thought,
and move forward knowing one day,
all will be revealed.

No more words to bend,
concepts run dry…
time to say goodbye.

(An attempt to break writer’s block – inspired by the image above, taken tonight.)

2 thoughts on “Mysteries of life

  1. Very nice work here, Yacoob. Love the photo, the poem (structure, rhythm, content) and the message behind it. There seems to be a lot of “writer’s block” going around. Nice to see your effort to corral it. Keep it up.

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