"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go." – T.S. Eliot

Time is living me.
More silent than my shadow,
I pass through the loftily covetous multitude.
My name is someone and everyone.

From a desert of loneliness I come,
From a place where solitary and desperate souls dwell
From a land of solitude I come,
From a place where hollow men cry tears of dust.

From a sea of sorrows I come,
From a place where remorse and guilt and shame reign
From a mountain of broken dignity I come,
From a place where shreds of lost hope abound.

From the quick sands of life I come,
From a place where faith are smothered and sucked under
From the gutter of drunken bliss I come,
From a place where the pain is drowned even for just one day.

From a house of loveless anger I come,
From a place where merciless judgement condemned me to hell.
From a world of no forgiveness I come,
From a place where nails of scorn crucified my soul.
From a valley of painful loss I come,
From a place where grief and unfulfilled dreams are shattered glass.

And then I walked slowly.
Like one who come from so far away,
He does not expect to arrive...

And then,
From times long forgotten you came.
From a heart tender and innocent you speak to me,
From a soul hungry for a mate you waved at me
From eyes with tears wet you winked at me,
From a body so slight and ever beautiful you invited me,
From a need born from guilty want you called to me:

Stop now, you said
Dream again, you pleaded
Share bountifully, you asked
Believe, believe, you urged
Love once more, you whispered

And I stopped to look at you.
And I turned to yesteryear
And I weighed the day
And I pondered tomorrow

And I started to walk again.
And I stopped again.
And I looked again…

Like one who wish with all his heart that this might be it...
That this might just be
Journey's end.


Note: All lines in italics courtesy of Jorge Luis Borge from his poem Boast of Quietness, as quoted by Kiran Desai in The Inheritance of Loss.

Published by Lukie Pieterse