Of what is new…

like the flowing river, 'tis set in motion

of what is to be driven to the dreams of me

far away from the nearer hearts, in to the ocean…

looking through the eyes in the toughest sun,

listening to the heart of a silent wall,

bouncing back the no-right-or-wrong way,

letting me into the risky lot of beautiful minds…

forget the now and get to the future

with empty hands but a baggage of mind

of the hard work and a bowl to beg

I aint giving up on it, nor will let go me,

all I need is hands on me, for me…

am looking there, where I can’t reach now

and to see it, is what I do all the time

but I was stopped, to think, now, here,

as moon only looks near, than a place on earth

walk over the place, place after place

reach the destiny, that I walked in my mind…

mine is a tagged voice and that is unheard of

or perhaps the only ignored out of the lot;

but voices of ‘go-get-it’, to push me forward,

and of a compromise for the status, thyself;

piercing the wind into a clear face-of-mind

gave me strength like a huge tall tree…

believing the destiny, and moving along…

to check the present, of the past and the future,

and the life of everything around here, around me;

alone in my move, expecting it right, to see the end

in spite of the ground realities, different and dare…

'tis all new, and on the move now

ambiguous journey into the defined path of mind

where I see an action set, and animated voices

I aint going to give up, for sure and beware

I aint giving up…

Srik

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