In every city I visit, in every cathedral or mosque
pagoda or temple, gurudwara or synagogue;
in every space enroute to my self-discovery,
I light a candle, offer a prayer
With every prayer, I wish for things -
some material, others not so tangible, for myself
or for others I have loved more than you.
All through the hours of my worship, I converse with you
about my family and friends, whom you have gifted to me.
I don't know why I presume you will listen more carefully to
my entreaties in a foreign land. I am the one on holiday, not you.
I share my thoughts with you hoping that in the end
you will talk to me, directly; not through your silence.
I know you love me, for sometimes
you respond to the smallest desire of mine.
How can I forget that it was you
who taught me to accept my need of you?
I pray to recall our state of bliss before I was born,
before I demanded my own life, seperate from you.
I try my best to remember but memory plays tricks with me.
If you got hurt, you never showed me. Instead you loved me
constantly; kept watch over me as I lived and got hurt.
How was I to know in advance the consequences of my deeds?
My loneliness has brought me back to where I had begun.
I have nowhere else to go; don't let me turn away again on
another journey of self discovery for I am already done.
29 авг 2024
