Reflections

“I’ll spread my wings and I’ll learn how to fly. I’ll do what it takes, till I touch the sky.” I am not used to ranting anymore. Words that came quite easily to me earlier don’t anymore. For a long time, I have been trying to write. Something. Anything. This is what I came up with. Far From Home When I look inside the navy cloak, I see the scared eyes, Searching for something to hold on to. And the smile waiting to break into a grin. Proclaiming the arrival of a new beginning. I hear the innumerable songs of flight, Of love, friendship and success; Sung with girlfriends during the nights. The hands that were held so tightly, As the feet walked uphill: Bruised by stepping on stones, That perhaps slowed their speed, But never made them retreat. I can feel the warm embraces Through words, thoughts and gestures, That made the journey worthwhile. The reflection in the ocean, That which is scared and ecstatic, Smiles as I remove the cloak a

Hickory Dickory Dock, I think I have a broken clock, The clock it never moves And it shows the same time all the time. So each time I take a look It tells me the time As quarter past nine. Nothing around me moves, The sun never goes down And the dawn never breaks The king still has his crown And the dinosaurs still eat the snakes. The water doesn't flow, Because my clock tells me so. Each time I take a look It tells me the time As quarter past nine. But I never have to hurry I have no deadlines to meet And I am never really late To the meetings of the great. I never grow old And I might not even die Or so I am told. Because each time I take a look My clock shows me the time As quarter past nine. Hickory Dickory Dock It is never really the clock That decides for me Whether I should climb a tree. Even if each time I take a look It tells me the time As quarter past nine.