in retreat … i wait

in retreat i wait for a voice

a sense, an assurance
a word of admonition, a declaration
of a direction and i wait

to charge my soul, rundown battery

and i am seated in front
of that window with curtain
rolled, and my coffee cup empty

it is a wintry morning

with a moon waning
yet to set
as leafless boughs sway

and pine branches

have shed the snow
as bunches
of mountain ash berries swing

they add

an extravagant red
to rising reddish rays

but in retreat

i wait
for light
to shine in heart

© henry victor     11.02.2004

i try not to touch

 

it’s 7.10 am

last day of the retreat

again i am in front

of the same window

the curtain too is drawn

to see the beyond

the moon, perhaps waned more

now blocked by the spruce tree

winds are not blowing

but some smoke is puffing

the chimney causing a chase!

i hear

doors opening

and doors shutting

men, women -- nay

priests and priestesses

tip toeing!

i have overcome, i notice

bits of self

i know

neither i belong here, nor there

a thought with which i am

now comfortable;

the moon is still hidden

i try not to touch the moon

© henry victor      11.02.2004

my pause

i recess to reflect

but the pause summons no peace

to my somnolent spirit

songs i am yet to compose

threatens from my band to be cut

i struggle from within me to tease

a melodious music to go out

but all seems wedged

into an impasse

like a turtle pulled in all her feet

© henry victor     02.05.2003