Well I've hit a bit of a dry spell. My busy life has given me writers block. There seems to be no time to live in the clouds. It seems the older I get the harder it is to be in my own fantasies. Which is wierd because I've always been able to be in my own world no matter where I am. I must be going through one of those yucky phases where reality and my reality cross paths. Which for me is not a bad thing to have the cloud cover clear every now and then. At least it allows me to observe my surroundings.
I do apologize to those who have posted comments and I have not responded yet (I am working on this). I want to thank everyone for the comments on my poem and about my birthday which did turn out a bit better than I thought.
With that said here is a poem that I forgot about. It seems to bring me peace in this busy world.
Ocean of Forms
by Rabindranath TagoreI
Dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms,
hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.
No more sailing from harbor to harbor with this my weather-beaten boat.
The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.
And now I am eager to dive into the deathless.
Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss
where swells up the music of toneless strings
I shall take this harp of my life.
I shall tune it to the notes of forever,
and when it has sobbed out its last utterance,
lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent
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1 comment:
Maybe it's good to think of this not so much as a dry spell as a time when ideas are germinating. Which would make it a very active time really, even if you aren't producing anything.
Thanks for the Tagore poem. Can't go wrong with Tagore.
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