That is enough to speak of for now.
A hope for tomorrow.
And a love of today.
Is all you need
to fall a asleep on a night,
where nothing is different
from the day before.
Why do we happen to search for those faces of yesterday
when they don’t even exist in the people of today?
People stare at eachother
for an awful long time.
God knows what they see.
A pot is the same,
whatever it holds.
Mine holds quicksand,
and flowers are growing from it.
I’m supposed to pick the weeds,
I might do it tomorrow,
When I find them.
Would you like to be back in yesterday?
I’ll meet you there if you want.
We can talk about what happened
today.
And remember the things
that didn’t really happen,
when I was three.
I’m sure we’ll know the answer
to the question I’m asking you now
about the color of the sky,
when you knew the God that hid there.
Mine was hiding
inside me.
And now I’m walking
to the beat of that new song
they stuck on the radio
last week.
I’m sure there was some subtle meaning
to what it said.
But maybe it was a bit more obvious
than I had believed.
Priyanka
2 August 2009
