November 30

Imperfect Life

She was born, she lived
And yet her life felt imperfect
Her heart desired for something more
To go out, to explore

Until that one day, when life decided
To run out, to go into the wild
And she packed what was needed
And left what she wanted behind

And thus she went, as life called
Ventured into the unknowns
The mornings she gathered
The nights she gazed
And once in a while she wrote

Of endless desires, of human emotions
Of love and sorrow and pain and joy
Of fights and peace, of machines and men

And so the seasons passed in contentment
The first winter was easy, the second was known
It was the summer she saw a pair of birds
But by the time she was close they had already flown

Yet the damage was done
And the heart revealed its true nature
And the days that followed were of turmoil
Peace was broken, contentment vanished
And she searched for the answers

Why she questioned? I was born alone
And I die alone, and I have all that I need
Why she asked her heart?
That it wanted more, of something
She could not provide by herself

Why do you want to be loved by another
Why do you seek the company of someone
Why do you try to find joy in words
Not spoken but heard

Why do you seek out the warmth
Of someone else beside you
The comfort of the arms of a human

Her thoughts floated around her
And suddenly she feared something
Was the meaning to existence
Only when approved by an outsider

Is life by itself without purpose or meaning
Are words meant only to be spoken to a person
Is love then not inner but always attached to someone
Maybe not always but sometimes
For there are no certain answers she knew

Another fleeting realization came
But vanished before she caught on
And she spent days to find it again
Hidden deep inside her mind

No two minds are same and no two people
And sometimes the half formed answers
Can only be complete by another half
So the other was important, she had to admit
Living alone is not always the perfect solution

What then was a perfect life?
A life amidst the mass of moving cities
Or to be by yourself nestled in your mother’s lap
Was there a perfect life?
A life with someone who would complete
And yet away from the emptiness of filled up worlds

Your own private world with all of its peace and gardens
That allows that someone who completes
Is that the perfect life?

What was it then that her heart desired
She pondered with a finality
To love and be loved
To feel the touch and warmth
To gaze upon the skies, nestled in an embrace
To have someone to complete your wor(l)ds
Yes that might be the most perfect imperfect life
And she smiled again, a sense of peace found


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Posted November 30, 2013 by pranay in category "Poems

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