Lesson

April 13, 2018 by Usha Pisharody 4 Comments

Of empty barrels

And pots to fill

That’s what she

Thought, it was all about –

And readily offered

To be so inundated:

Fact, fiction,

They soon merged;

Language and thought

So much to touch!

But they didn’t say

That barrels emptied

Or pots, yet hollow,

If they so remained,

Sometimes surging, welling,

Other-times, upturned, cleared out –

Was all that mattered.

Lessons weren’t to be

Stored: airtight.

Dank, dour, dark.

But

Aired.

Shared.

Lived. 

12 April, 2018, Day#12 of #NaPoWriMo – it’s getting to a challenge now 😀 The muse, the words, they linger longer at the threshold of recognition, not fain to enter when asked 😀