Prelude: Facsimile – dVerse Poetics
She told us all about herself,
And, in the end
She asked for help.
Each one in shock,
Asked their own self,
“Did she just speak about me,
Or, tell about herself?”
Because, all of what
She was going through,
Pain, agony, fear and despair,
Was, essentially, true,
For each one of them too.
And, each has had a long wait,
Like her, for that someone,
Who would come and satiate.
An old man, stood up,
Walked up to her,
Put his shivering hand,
Softly, on her shoulder,
And, said, “I seem to be
The oldest among you all,
And, I confess to you,
There wasn’t a day
When I didn’t pray
For that someone,
Who would transform
My dismay into gay.
Many came, many went,
But, to me, that someone
Hadn’t yet been sent.
The wait for someone,
Perpetually continued,
Fueled by my hope,
Added days to my months,
Months to my years,
Years to my decades,
And, finally,
Regret to my despair.
As great has been my wait,
So deep has been my fall.
And, only some time back,
I began to see,
That if you really desire to transform,
This depressing state,
Start to understand the reasons,
For your fate.
There is the truth,
Known to you,
Or, in front of your eye
You have to embrace
And, not shun or shy.
That your thirsty soul
Could only be filled
By the water you bring,
Anyone’s water will never satiate,
No matter how much
You are offered,
Or, how much you drink.
That you are your only means
To find your way,
Please don’t let your life,
Like my life, in illusion, pass away.”
The old man, then,
Put a hand on her head,
And, walked out of the door,
Wherever the path lead.
(Pictures- From the web)
