Monday, February 13, 2012

A Poem

The most beautiful bounty
I keep hidden-
I hide
Without grace but with Shame.
I ground it
and grind it
and keep it milled-crushed-powdery.
Insubstantial.
I keep the mill always moving, always
Always crushing.
Like a coward- Like a fracture.
And within that fracture
I have spread the residue
of my most beautiful bounty-
sprinkling the detritus
of esteemed treasures
and packing it down so it cannot be found.
But what is the bounty?
But what is that most beautiful bounty?
But mine?

2 comments:

  1. This is the shiz. Just fantastic. Thanks for sharing, seriously.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Mikey V. I appreciate that. It seems to take an immense amount of bravery for me to share my poetry. But I am so glad that I did. Especially this one. I wrote it at the ashram :)

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