In The Manner Of Borges I Write Poems In My Old Age

IN THE MANNER OF BORGES I WRITE POEMS IN MY OLD AGE

In the manner of Borges I write poems in my old age
And dream that they are not only imitations
Of poems written by others
When we all were young.

Instead I go on now in the darkness of the night
Because the fear of what will be
Is always so deep in me
It does not need Poetry or Happiness or any other Meaning
Outside itself.

We are small sands drifting on the edge of stars
Lesser beings of a time we will never know
All that we have done comes back to us over and over again
As if we never were

I don’t believe I will ever write Borges lines
He wrote them in his own imagined words
And I must in my own little life
Suffer to the end of time
All I have not been
And never will be.

God Who is Good
God of Love
You gave me so much
You did not have to give me Poetry also.

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Malini Kadir 18 February 2008

but he has given a heart that is wise and full of caring spirits.... Yes, then did he have to give poetry? to a person who is a poetry in herself?

0 0 Reply