Blame

I am an avid reader
of the book of my life.
I need not cram
titles or the lines or stanzas
the days with me scribble.
They all enter the livid
pool of my memory themselves.

I have gone through
the dense green foliage of the words.
I have tasted the juice
oozing out of the pores
that creep between words,
the gap that open between the paragraphs,
the space that is left vacant between the chapters.

I have gazed into the darkness
that is spilled and spread
beneath the meaning of some words.
I have put so much of my thought into
the mystery circling around them.

I have read voraciously
all these pages of
the book of my life.
I am the only one to peruse
so in-depth, so thorough.

Lure to read from
cover to cover
I come out of the cocoon
of illusion I find myself in.
I can't read some of its chapters myself.
The preface and some of the following
chapters my parents read
and hid from me.
And the last line of the last
chapter perhaps people will
read and keep with them.
How much I crave to read them!
I blame the Maker for this error.


Copyright Mukul Dahal 2006





Poetry by Mukul Dahal
Read 460 times
Written on 2006-10-31 at 16:39

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