Saturday, March 9, 2019

'We are breaking through the ice of an imaginary stream.' //

We are breaking through the ice of an imaginary stream.
In our souls, we are cups of steel,
We can both break the ice and scoop up the cold water.
We can drink and become one with the coldness.
We are like those thoughts people have during dreams
That seem to make sense while we dream,
But when we are awake it is all nonsense
And quickly forgotten.
Such a pity, at times, this humanity.
But not now, now we are the light
Reflecting off the brittle surface of the ice.
Now we are slipping deeper into the dream,
Deeper into the sweet, cool fog of sleep.


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Friday Night poetry reading, 04 June 2020

The poems of Mizra Ghalib, 1797-1869 read by James Lee Jobe