Trailing clouds of glory*
a poem
Published in
Sep 7, 2021
Drawn with clay,
on this yellow canvas of desire,
Airbrushed with colours of water, dirt and fire,
We come blessed with the five senses,
ability to see, hear, speak, touch, taste, and of course think!
but we still forget,
refusing to see or hear,
or think deeply about things,
things, which are so clear!
Our illusion,
that we are forever,
Our tenacity,
not to understand
The world is
our temporary trevor!
We aren’t here to stay!
We are just on our way,
as we merge back into that glow,
that we come from
and that’s where we go!
Notes:
*Inspired by Wordsworth’s famous line ‘Trailing clouds of glory,’ in Ode on intimations of immortality…
