The Way

And the monk sat, like a cloud, at peace, the way you can
unfurl at a safe distance from people, speaking softly, the

way spring rain writes on leaves, about life and illusion and
the journey of souls that leaves us behind, the way a snake

trades one skin for another. I wanted to ask if I could shed
this skin you touched, memories etched on it like scars that

would never heal. I wanted to ask if I could be washed and
anointed in a sunshine unguent, the way a bride is bathed

before her wedding, healing turmeric running down her
face and neck, the way the old sky is made to masquerade

as a new one each morning. But I am just the moulted life
of a writhing soul, holding on for a flutter, the way a name

is carried in the fist of the wind, for a distance. A sunset drips
yellow, the way time passes, faster when nobody is watching.

 

VV-June-2018-sharon-mccutcheon

Image by Sharon McCutcheon (Picture Prompt provided by Visual Verse)
First published on Visual Verse (Vol 05, Chapter 08)
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48 thoughts on “The Way

  1. Pulled me right in. I love the flutter like a name carried by the wind and the monk became real to me.

    Like

  2. This is absolutely breathtaking!๐Ÿ’– Especially love the flutter like a name carried by the wind. ๐Ÿ˜Š

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  3. very heart touching and at times we wish to forget all the pain and be fresh but somethings can never be forgotten….

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  4. Beautiful images, Rajani! Here’s my favorite:

    “I wanted to ask if I could shed
    this skin you touched, memories etched on it like scars that

    would never heal.”

    I have felt that very same thing before.

    Like

  5. kaykuala

    A sunset drips yellow,
    the way time passes,
    faster when nobody is watching.

    Yes very much so! And time slows down when caught in a traffic jam on the way for an important appointment. Great word-craft Thot!

    Hank

    Like

  6. I remember this one, such an unusual image, Rajani, and your poem gave it so much more. I love the image of a monk unfurling at a safe distance like a cloud – I’d love to do that! – and spring rain writing on leaves. These lines are so beautiful:
    ‘…I wanted to ask if I could be washed and
    anointed in a sunshine unguent, the way a bride is bathed

    before her wedding, healing turmeric running down her
    face and neck, the way the old sky is made to masquerade

    as a new one each morning.’

    Like

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