Weathered Fragments Of Consciousness Poem by Suraj Samtani

Its not that you are becoming guilty,
But you are definitely loosing your innocence.

I once doted on you as if you were my own child.
I once felt your love like you were a gift from Source.

You were my only companion.
You were my only support.

With you I never stood a veil.
With you I never hid a shadow.

In your presence I bathed the shower of pure beauty,
In your presence I met the depths of my own humanity.

But now the season has changed, &
So have you.

The winds of your maturity brought such a tide, that
From you and your pubertal weather I'm continually umbrellaed.

The change happened at no fault of yours, &
Neither was it an error of another.

Like an expected but uninvited guest,
The precipitation of your adolescence capsized your innocence.

Your life now sails on the fins of adopted arrogance,
But through your defences you're still just as ignorant.

In your illusion of self-invincibility,
You're oblivious to your own vulnerability.

You've escaped to a supposedly better reality,
Wherein you practise your self-chosen morality.

You've learnt how to judge others, &
You've begun to doubt their every intention.

Your mind is now occupied with suspicion,
As your heart heartlessly harbors hatred.

Your voice, once innocently descriptive,
Is now spitefully, sourly, and solely, prescriptive.

Like a savannah waiting for its trees,
Like a tree waiting for its leaves,

I patiently and helplessly wait,
For the tide to retrive its wave.

Your rain has taunted me enough, &
Your taunts have rained on me enough.

Alas, the sun has sprung, &
Alas, the buds of your maturity have finally blossomed.

The drought of your purity has ended, &
From your system all dark energies have exited.

The clouds of your ego are clearing, as
The soul of your spirit finally soars.

Once again I see your transparency, &
Once again I feel your unconditionality.

Though still beautiful, your love now has a new taste.
There is wisdom in its flavor, and humbleness in its seasoning.

You have recovered well to remind me of your story,
That you are, in fact, just a forgotten fragment of my own self.