HOW?
How daylight drizzles down,
in tiny drops the water falls from clouds
and trickles through the maze of fear and doubt,
reflected in the puddles’ sheen—
how then to live?
For something wiped the meaning from all aims.
Too many bitter griefs have left their stains,
and oh, how few
of hopes have made it through.
***
How daylight dims,
and bodies homeward press through clasping shadows,
while merging in the force of peace and sorrows
that spread across the streets—
how then to dream?
For every longing fades to nothingness.
Disappointment’s price is far too great,
and that one change
remains beyond our range,
***
or left exchanged,
when weight of simple fact
is the syncopation shifting all the beat.
Author: Veron
