Circumspect

April 3, 2017 by Usha Pisharody 7 Comments

It’s a freeloaders’ paradise
This vagrant heart you own.

Errr.. own. Let me rephrase that.
You think you own.

Savvy?
You trust, you believe. You have
That unflinching faith
That all is known to them
That love your generous heart.

And so you love.
For you know not
How to be…else.

Elsewhere. You give.
No one asks, they take.
Not because you give.

But because they
Think
They, they own yours.

Because you love.
Love with that endless
Limitless knowledge of how
Your infinite capacity
Can never diminish, but only grow….

While, when they take,
All that you see is how
Defined, confined, blind
They grow.

They say, say,
They love you.
And you? You gullible you

You take that Medal of Honour
Of Love, they bestow.
Adorn your heart for all to see….
Wear it upon your sleeve
Talk endlessly to all who
May pass your way.

Gush, in eager exhortation
Of how they be incomplete
If love be not theirs.

They look on in
Wondrous confusion -that such creatures exist;
Slowly changing the colour of the emotion they lend.

To pity.

You still revel
In the singular faith.
Love cannot, will not
Abandon…

Live that lie
You faith lends.

Never, ever learning the lesson
Not even inadvertently.

How to be circumspect.
Guarded.

For yours is a vagabond soul
That tarries not.

And never holds back.

And therefore grows.
Because the lesson escapes you.

Oh Love!

 

3 April, 2017

Day#3 of #Napowrimo, 2017 – National Poetry Writing Month 2017 – a quest into wound lent by a sliver, a shard that strikes just where it hurts

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