The morning, gloomy
under the overcast sky,
and my mind cast in
the same dim colours.
One pale, chill coin
with two weathered sides,
so I elevate myself...
Beyond pessimism and
dim morass of self-pity,
does one mirror oneself
on the indifferent landscape,
or does the landscape
imprint itself on the mind?
Which is the reflection?
Or, to be philosophical in
a clumsy amateur fashion,
is there any dividing line
between one and the other,
is separation just an illusion
of the ephemeral human person
wanting to stand alone -
when merely another
figure passing through
the assembly and
dusassembly of being?
23.05.-04.06.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
Ei kommentteja:
Lähetä kommentti