Names, places, things.
Whither, thither, wither.
Names that speak of where you come
Or began or have become.
Names, faces, and places.
Nothing, noone and nobody you have become.
When my mother was young, she would
Play with me, her face showed her love.
But that was far away, when I was someone.
Perilous was the crossing. From one life to another.
Am I an entity still? What do I become?
I speak in strange words to a stranger in a strange land.
An entity, yet but in my mind I think:
No Homeric persona am I, not a protagonist
Just an entity on the brink
Of nonentitiness, of trying to understand.
Copyright: Rani Turton
No Homeric persona am I, not a protagonist Just an entity on the brink Of nonentitiness So often I also face these lines in my inner space.....liked the thought inherent.
I love the wording and the question of where an existence begins or ends, or what it transforms into..really intriguing!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Liked the style and usage of words. ----------------- 'When my mother was young, she would Play with me, her face showed her love. But that was far away, when I was someone.' ----------------- I too face the same issue!