Time fans out behind me
Like a peacock's tail,
Emerald eyes with jet centers
Staring at what might have been
But never was
Because of some tiny change
In the trajectory
Of my destiny.
What is karma?
Do we drag it like chains
From life to life?
Do we bind ourselves like yarn
Onto a spindle of our own design?
And can we, with a wriggle,
Break free?
Am I unraveling?
Can I lighten my load
As I shed memories
Like nightmares
That fade at daybreak
Replaced by a dawn
That I face like a stranger
Innocent of her own past?
It may be that what weighs me down
And anchors me to my fears
Is no more than poison dripped into my ear
On the ninja's thread of my own doubts.
Maybe if I let myself float like fleece,
Untwisted, undyed, unbrushed,
A wind will carry me beyond
The gnarled hands that have
Spun and cut and spun and cut
The thread that ties me to this world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful poem Suzanne! Great work