Stew

When I turned the light on and appeared

There you sat, a wounded mess

 

Steeped in your stuff and madness,

Stewing in your ephemeral haze,

 

That’s the way you went

The direction it seems, had been chosen

 

Or that is what you told you

 

If only you would have known

That over the billowing hills,

Just up the way

A field of sunshine lay

 

Open just about every day

But only to those

 

With the truest wishes, the most simple desires

To believers just Believers

 

These are the things that I learned

From the earth and sky

 

But since you can’t get by

I leave you here hoping someday you will fly

 

For now, Stew away in your stuff and mess

But as for me, I’m going so bye.

© Sima Pendharkar May 2013