call this morning yourself
honking each word into your dead ears
hurling each breath into your blind eyes
waking up early to break certain things from the past and to wet hands, feet and face from their smelly filthiness with fresh water reciting the holy verses and performing the prayer turning towards any direction – not the fixed one.
I resist any fixation and
my direction is fluid and slips away like water.
mornings are well-written prefaces of a book,
a face that washes off its last night’s
dirtiness of mouth and heart too.
call this morning yourself
pouring several drops of purity into your senses
scrubs your present
from its dirty and tense limbs.
the world is empty out there,
call this morning yourself,
recite the morning verse deafeningly
right into your dead ear!
honking each word into your dead ears
hurling each breath into your blind eyes
waking up early to break certain things from the past and to wet hands, feet and face from their smelly filthiness with fresh water reciting the holy verses and performing the prayer turning towards any direction – not the fixed one.
I resist any fixation and
my direction is fluid and slips away like water.
mornings are well-written prefaces of a book,
a face that washes off its last night’s
dirtiness of mouth and heart too.
call this morning yourself
pouring several drops of purity into your senses
scrubs your present
from its dirty and tense limbs.
the world is empty out there,
call this morning yourself,
recite the morning verse deafeningly
right into your dead ear!
good one!
Hi Afsar, I admire the juxtaposition of violent sonic imagery -- breaking and deafening -- with the characterization of morning as emptiness and water. I find this a profound treatment about the new day, as well as of prayer.
@ Ravi: Thanks anDee!
@Shamala: Thanks a lot. Wow! you're great critic too!