The Window
The Window
I have no knowledge
Of time or space
Or self.
There is just
A dark window,
Shadowed by a barrier
Of textures unknown
To my touch.
I cannot recall who
Did such a foul deed
As to cover the sun.
I do not know
Who I am
And why I am here,
A lone guard
Of this blackened window.
What it leads to
Or why it is perched here
Are questions I do not have
Answers to.
It has been silent
And barren
These countless eons.
There is no knowledge
Of time or space or self.
But wait,
There is a soft sound
On the other side of this portal.
It sounds like a million
Tiny jewels scattering
On its surface.
Wait, hear,
Now there is the hum
Of water flowing,
It beats and claps,
Loud against this window.
Now there is a whistle,
Something flies,
A faint flutter,
An echo that crawls
And prickles
Over this body I inhabit.
I have no knowledge
Of time or space
Or self.
There is just
A dark window,
On the other side of which
There is life.
You are magnificent! I dunno what professional contemporary poetry is like…I’m assuming it would be so darn good because of a revolution of new ideas…but as far as expression goes, you’re nearing perfection. Keep at it.
An echo that crawls
And prickles
Over this body I inhabit.
Echoes can’t prickle OVER a body, methinks!
9/10…
they can if i say so!
You’re spoilt! LOL…
i dont really get poetry usually…lol..so im sure ur other poems must b as magnificient as this one..but i think this is ur best piece so far!
love this! truly!
i like it.
u mite wanna delete sexyman’s comment, Sid…
Done