Mind-Draught


Beginning of such languid calm,
Becomes a trickle of moisture,
A teardrop unexpected,
Denied by the hand of darkness.

Still…

Being but human,
Even as evolution grants porous absorption,
Capacity reaches maximum.

Where does such overflow go?

Beneath the surface it lurks,
Gathering momentum,
Rising up without restraint,
An innocent emotion of nature disrupted,
Knowing not the distant shores it might need,
The life it might cling to,
Influence and consume.

And on it goes,
Innocent of hope,
Conditioned faith,
Unexpected fear of failure.

So human we are,
Bent on compartmentalizing,
Ill-equipped to understand
The amorphous origins of weeping,
The nature of its needs,
The compassion inherent with its lessons.

Somewhere in the cosmos,
Ideas of moisture-release evolved,
Presenting Man with tears,
Rain,
Streams,
Rivers,
Oceans.

Our world
Of cumulus billow,
Of swollen tear ducts,
Where all weeping knows one another,
Embracing its joy,
Its tragedy,
Its destiny,
Nature’s teaching.

A drop,
A tsunami,
All as one,
The Universe’s irreversible harmony.

Yet…

We continue this cosmic illiteracy
Wallowing in a dearth of smugness
Unaware of our mind-drought patiently waiting.