Just like a drop of coffee in a pot
It spends its birth with form outstretched
A yearning, longing to be free
From home. With weight and gravity
It learns and leans and wrenches free
Alive at last, it plummets to its end.
Perfected in a moment’s time
And living in a moment’s time
But in a moment’s time, is gone
I’ve wandered far from home. I hear
The gentle sound of splashing waves
Entice me like a mother’s song
A lonely river lies between the trees
I dip my aching feet into the waves
The cold stings needlepoints
Into my skin. And yet, the fire cools
And numbness grows. I welcome this,
This comfort from the aches and pains
I dragged with me all day. And yet,
Another ache emerges from the cold
Not from the body, from the heart
The morning breeze sends chills through me
And memories of warmth, of home,
Of hope. A pang of hunger shakes my bones
I stand, I lace my boots and go
The world is cold and warmth is gold
And all the gold is nothing next to home.
Once struck, it burns a moment’s time
The head is always first to go
The body follows in good time
With life and warmest flame
And what remains is cold and ash
Which is discarded all the same
Like all the other burned out heads
Once bright and burning, now thrown out
Put down your worries and your cares
Put down your anger and your rage
That eats your heart and tears the page
You wrote, of fondest memories and hopes
Put down the book, put down the pen
There’s no time left to think,
And when the final hour strikes its echoed song
It’s time to leave. This time it ends.
I chose this poem because I learned it back in college. I think it was in Philosophy. I think it was something about phenomenology, or about human experience. The lessons are not as clear now as they were before, but the memory of this poem still stays. I hope you enjoy.
A friend of mine once suggested that I record my voice as I was reading stuff. It’s not Goldilocks and the Three Bears like he wanted, but it’s a start.
I chose Desiderata because I used to hear it on the radio. My father also introduced the poem to me when I was younger. I only realized its value recently. I hope that this readinng was able to give it some justice.
This road divides us, you and I
The lights that flicker green to red
A signal, like a lighthouse rock
Upon the distant shore. I swore
I saw you calling, drawing light
Into my eyes, so tired of the bright
And glaring sight. Ignoring you,
I wanted only rest and sleep.
Your thankless duty did you keep
Until the signal dimmed at last
And tiny stars did cross my sight
Along with night. And I embrace
My cold and bitter cross. My loss,
Because I did not cross.