A CONTEMPLATION - HARTFORD HILTON
Now
The ticking
Of a clock -
Now
The traffic
Snarling.
Now
A gurgle
From the pipes
As someone’s bath
Is draining.
Behind it all
In muted tone
A subtle Huuuuuuu
Starts sounding.
Ignoring the clock,
Ignoring the cars
Ignoring the sewer pipe draining
Listening to this muted note
You sense your world changing.
Soft it sings
Within the Self,
Then gently starts uplifting.
Louder now.
Clearer now -
Into melodies
Now splitting.
.....
Up, up
Beyond the self
Above a brooding sea,
In warmth
And love
And colored light
Soul
Lives this melody.
.
Joy.
Joy. Love.
.
Apart,
Time passes.
.
The descent
Begins -
The returning
To the lower self.
The clock ticks.
The traffic growls.
Another toilet flushes.
© M. Barrett – all rights reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem