I am a creature of journeys, perhaps-
Destinations are not for me
I linger to assimilate
The sky, the soil, the fragrances-
These I will miss if I reach
The other end of it all:
So final, so irreversible.

I have thus found a law for me
“The Law of Almost, But”…

I grow into the trees and grass
Absorbing the lush green,
Burning at the edges in the heat,
Falling with the drift of leaves-
And yet I do not dig in roots…

I spread into the sky
With spaces in my soul;
Where gather clouds of doubts and fear
And griefs of rain pour,
Lighting up rainbows of deep silence-
And yet I am just a brush-stroke…

I am drenched in the tide
Of relationships that bind;
That give me a bracket in which
To place the verities of my life;
Appearing to be my identity-
And yet I do not belong to anywhere…

Because I was almost all that
But something fell short-
I wonder what that something was
Which spells the ‘But’-
That says I must be content
With being the ‘Almost’…