That night?
We drank in the deep goblets of conversation,
Swirling them
And, thirsty for the bottom of each bottle
threw our heads back
Until we were Drunk,
Intoxicated by the newness of it all
And tripped over unfinished thoughts
Falling into eager, tangled conversation
That left us breathless and spent,
Ideas strewn about the room
Like the cast-off clothes of young lovers
Lying in knotted sheets wondering,
What just happened there
Next time?
Let's try this:
May we enjoy the wisdom of our bodies' age
in words too
Gently feeling for the spaces in between
and resting there
Each time, for a breath
of silent appreciation
Or two.
Funny, isn't it?
How these tired bones know
That the less time is left
The more one should spend on
Each moment
[a reflection on Hafiz's "Today", exploring thoughts, rather than the physical world]