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Thursday 19 September 2013

Poem: A time we shall not know




a time we shall not know -
of million generations before us
our skin and bones were forged
under mother's heart
where we made our first moves
reaching with our fingers
towards this small universe
of heartbeats and water
sailing in the sea of words
coming from the beyond
- where we knew no daylight
only saw the intertwined roots
of a tree, which kept us alive and growing
until we left the shadows of a womb
and roots became branches on which we played
we were placed into the hands
to guide and provide for us
in the best way they knew how
all our fates depended on the country we were born into
one small blue dot in the cosmic play
with endless plots from which we were given one
and it's our decision how we are going to write it
in all these minutes we have
the only time we shall know
it's short and it's precious
but we seem unaware of its ticking away
wind can sweep the seeds
and in hundreds of years
who knows where the seed will bloom
or will it rot away in a corner of a forgotten time
a forgotten generation, an imprint of information
maybe a door of solution – or destruction
and in hundreds of years
who knows whose eyes might find your pages
give you a new voice and a new heart
and you'll come like an evening shadow
into a time you shall not know
*

15 comments:

  1. I can't but wonder whether the time has been well spent.

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  2. To me it seems your poem is written about destiny....moving from the time of the very beginning. I do often think about

    all our fates depended on the country we were born into
    one small blue dot in the cosmic play
    with endless plots from which we were given one

    and how it was determined who was born here or who was born there & what 'plot' was one given in one's genes. And what does a person do with his destiny in the short life he was given? And I liked the ending ...thinking about the future and what will become of the seeds that began in the ancestral past? Something evil, or something good. I guess only time will tell....but we can hope, as well as living our life in a worthy way, making good use of the seed WE were given.

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    1. exactly mary! make a good use of the seeds we were given. and watch them develop, and hope it won't all be forgotten.

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  3. Wow, how did you come up with this? It is a whole life's philosophy condensed into some brilliant words. It has everything, flow, meaning, and emotion. Great job

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    1. thank you! it was one of those moments when you're with yourself and it just comes pouring out.

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  4. ugh. what a reality you know...if you were born elsewhere you would live a completely different life...and circumstance for sure....the thing with words as well is you may never see their signifigance in the lives of others...it may be well after you are gone that someone grasps them and it plots a never course in their life...

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    1. yes, sometimes our words aren't heard while we are alive...but maybe some part of our lives will give new meaning to someone who isn't even born yet.

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  5. it's unfortunate that we are unaware of the passage of time which is so imperceptible...grand way of looking at things

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  6. How we forget we are sometimes one small dot in the galaxy ~ But hopefully our words like seeds will be carried away, to someone who needs it most ~ Lovely reflections here ~

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  7. Beautiful words. It made me kind of sad. I like sad.

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  8. Yes, the imprints we leave, the traces. This was so layered, so beautifully textured, Natasa. Just gorgeous. Do we use our limited wisely? I think we so often forever our own mortality.

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  9. I love the idea that sometime in years ahead, someone may read these words we write and briefly we will live again. I especially love "in hundreds of years who knows where the seeds will bloom".

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  10. time is so short & precious....I wonder too if the words of today will be remembered.

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  11. 7 billion people right now, and most will surely "rot away in a corner of a forgotten time"

    an interesting and perceptive write. enjoyed reading your poetry. :)

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  12. Beautiful, absolutely love "who knows whose eyes might find your pages.....".

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