Being happy with one’s lot – K.B

Being happy with one’s lot

 

 
At a young age,
I wanted to explore
The world,

Fill my belly
With exotic
Fruits.

I met an old man.

He didn’t speak much
But I could feel his
Concern.

He never spoke
Out of passion
For fear of making
Me dream too loud.

He was often
Angry,

He served me
The soup
Of the world.

Now I know
That he knows.

And his words
Echo in me.

My soul vibrates
To the night.

The invisible
Sign that was set
In it
Makes me happy
With my lot,

A sort
Of cold resignation.

The old man is still
Alive but he is no
Believer.

Love took me to
Heights

And the lows were
Exquisite.

The wrong passion
Can hurt.

The night asks
For hushed prayers
But I was dead all day
Long,

Taking care of current
Affairs.

A friend was starving
Two days earlier,

How many times
Didn’t he feed
But still,
I had to make
The right choice.

Charity is no
Excess nor depletion
Of oneself,

As long as the vision
Lives on….

 

 
K.B

 

 

All rights reserved. 2019

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