Some days, I wander all the ways, then I recoil
—Intently chase, along my ways, my own surrender;
This knot, I find my Self forgot, how sweet & tender,
Such lasting bearing & forbearing, that trail of toil.
The Men I deemed unmanned so as not to spoil,
The Man within, who combats sin, in weary splendour,
The Man who fights’bove all himself to be the Mender:
Of all the sickness of the air, the sea, the soil.
The Man I know I am, from my own end, recall,
Who offers Life back to itself at the cost of doom,
& self from self, he conquers self, yet unsuccumb,
His goal, though lonely, seeking only, to be whole,
Yet he surmounts all hills & mounts, since left the womb,
So though I recoil, I’ll always toil, till I become…
Night Talks II,
By B.S.
July 2023
Beesho's Blog 
Leave a comment