Beyond the Blinding Surety of our Naked Sight (a poem)
We unsee things that came before the things to come/Then romance fantasy long enough to send faith packing...
Tonight the moon smiles at my grandmother's peaceful snores Its gray light holds a solemn vigil for her grey hairs So I sit up and make the scene into a simile for every lost metaphor Behind the weak snores of my grandmother I hear living vibrations of hopes gone ragged Beyond the greying chemistry of her life's modalities I smell the combustion of fate and chance I may be too green to understand how yellow reds out in style How nakedly postured the years must have gone for her Shrouded in the many affairs amounting to much of less How days breezing past bent her core, sagged her skin Engraved deep wrinkles on her forehead as testaments Wore her—tearing her now, discarding her soon Perhaps, under the cloud of our mortal oblivion We unsee things that came before the things to come Then romance fantasy long enough to send faith packing Only to realise we miss out on treasures hidden in plain sight But don't stop believing, Grandma would say if she were to stop snoring And doubt not the string of faith being pulled before your very eyes For it is stronger than the blinding surety of the naked sight Just believe, yeah, that the world was created out of words And things made were not made out of the visible Times may be seasoning out your days with a strange flavour Only believe, that the master chef will not follow a wrong recipe For only the believing eye sees the moon smiling wide from afar And this poem ends in hope only if you feel some faith rising in your heart © Babjossy, 2024
This is a wonderful piece
This is a wonderful peace Babjossy.