Wednesday, 10 September 2014

between heart and mind


image: google


the ring of the phone shattered the peace
reluctantly i answered ..
i heard the low voice 
she had lost her husband to cancer
the churning started inside
why and how questions circled
answers were not there to soothe 
as i watched the questions dance
a war was waged in mind by thoughts
my heart was trying to make me realize
the play of dark and light
continues till the last breath
the inside I is never disturbed
the only question remains
who is this I who is watching all the drama?
Is it the I, i call body? or the I, i call mind?
 or the I, i call heart? Who is this I ???
 no  answer to this one
because the question is rising from the I !!!








12 comments:

  1. Like a stream of consciousness to me...I like the 'question is rising from the i...'

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  2. I dread getting those kind of calls (as it spells bad news) ~ I like conflicting questions, the dilemna when one is swept with the bad news and you are trying to find an answer within yourself ~

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  3. I think such questions often arise after a death. We can ignore these questions while all is well, but when there is a death we are forced to look death in the eye.

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  4. So many aspects of the self that lead to all these questions. Death does make us introspective.

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  5. ...the mind of the battle of self, loss, we know we all have to go there eventually down that path. Someday. I am sorry for your loss.

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  6. A call like that ... how can you soothe.. is it just to take those first steps toward that pinpoint of light.. a beautiful walk through the essence of what's important in dark and light

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  7. cancer survivor here .... it does raise questions for sure.

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  8. I can't imagine... Death brings question you'd rather remain ignorant to, but we must answer them at some point and time.

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  9. The questions...the churning...oh these situations do shatter the peace as we try to understand and make sense of things.

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  10. the question arises from the I. that's how it alwasy is.


    Notes Fro A Metro Line

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  11. There is always a little terror in late night phone calls. I'm sorry this one was so awful.

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  12. Yes the true I is the watcher and the questioner. Lovely poem, though sad that your husband's friend died.

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