Monday, April 07, 2008

Why can't I buy Time?

Sleep eluded me last night. Not cause Monday was looming big. But because I kept missing something - the right words to days that choose to stay unidimensional despite many happenings, to contentment that skirts. And then I discovered them after much scouring.

"I said fate plays a game without a score,
and who needs fish if you've got caviar?"

- Joseph Brodsky

Poetry offers reprieve in its malleability of context. And so Time, while ticking incessantly at a chosen pace, I am tempted to ask for occasional preludes on what's to come, to whet me. But I wont. Cause I gave my word to patience and pledged myself to trust. Yet I secretly wish for it to yield. Will sit with twilight purple for company watching many nights yield to several dawns.

I think too much. I miss too much. Days are peppered with excitement-sapper and roll off like drops of water from lotus leaves - never really touching. Never really living. Never present entirely in a moment.

Or maybe I should shut up with this talk, for what if at the end I'm just Time's fool?

No comments: