Reflecting Upon A Series Of Experiences For This Day.....

The experience has always been
a

shaping and reshaping seemingly without end
like a journey to a horizon that has no limit to the exhaustion of the eyes.

It will always be an invention, and reinvention,
like having to hope for hope because
there is nothing good
happening to

life, it is like looking at a room, sitting on a sofa,
staring at the ceiling, looking beyond the glass window by your side,

and always asking, why is this room always unfinished,
this house always a question of

why? and for all we know, we fail to look at our own feet,
to reflect our eyes on the mirror and

assure ourselves that the hours actually also know how to wait
for answers,

actually, when i look at myself, i look at a stranger,
but i know the name of course, but there is more beyond to this name,

there is something speaking but never really known
something inside us, that is with us, but detached, talking with all honesty, saying

'You are wrong! There is something that you need to correct! '

Tell her, do not be afraid, Go! Go!

This is divided self, inside it, in this chest, there are small cabinets,

more doors, more windows, and endless tunnel without light.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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