So this is life, a feeling of energetic delight while running
around; I moved from my old workstation to a new one
today, eerie to see my old site wilting as flowers and
pictures were taken away
Then watching my new, compact work station coming
into bloom with colours, flowers, pictures and books, I
pasted blue paper on the windows – suddenly I am
home alone and find my thoughts
Return to emptiness; spiritualists implore us to prepare
for when our bodies are gone & we’re reduced to being
thoughts only – how will I stand it, no matter how hard
I prepare for loneliness and inactivity
These quiet times after a joyful, active day still find me
powerless to resist the feeling of meaninglessness, how
can we anchor meaning in ourselves and keep it intact
at the end of a day – or – at the end of a life?
Thursday 22 August 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem