being me is like..
standing so close to the trees
that all you see is a stave of branches
upon which sit birds and leaves that define the tempo of the moment
try as you will but
your gaze will never feel the need to retreat far enough
to feast on the structure of that forest

being able to see other ways is like….
reading the unseen
(or as its called
from the middle
the end or any other unintended point or facet
which, bleeds forth colours otherwise unseen
into newly zeitgeisty ways of believing

being able to think without walls is like….
living outside
the box
and looking in at the clamour
the great hubbub and hubris
within the angular confines of simplicity
life is more than four walls
a ceiling longing, belonging
or being adorned with a chandelier

being free to be different is like…
all of the things ignored or overlooked from being imagined
and for those who know not how it feels to read the world as a song
Listen for details
whispered in every misreading
and each error or understanding
and here you will find
an abundance of misapprehended branches
ready to be grasped


Author: ashokdmistry


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