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Friday 22 February 2019

Fourteen

In this world of smoke and mirrors
In this mind of self-deceit
Let me receive my comeuppance
Lend me tuppence for the cheek

In this room of light, of shadow
In this mind of grateful conceit
Let me suffer for compassion
Send my rations to the street

In this remnant of a calmness
In this mind of the minuscule feat
Let me transform by forgiveness
Blend the richness with the neat

In this collective of unconscious
In this mind of future distant beat
Let me anchor with my mantra
Mend the tantric, astride the leaf

In this struggle of no ending
In this mind of pre-cast concrete
Let me disturb me from my seat
Fend off to meet the however weak


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