Something I do too…

I Measure Every Grief I Meet

Poem lyrics of I Measure Every Grief I Meet by Emily Dickinson.

I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled–
Some thousands–on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.

I feel the same a lot of times. Whenever I see pain, I measure it with mine. And I’ve always thought it to be a very personal trait. But as always, it turns out I have company.

Let Go…

Numbers play a brutal game
Life is plain addition if I see beyond the veneered veil
Difficult are the transitions; Letting go
Is all that matters

Taken care of and then take care
Loose control, I commandeer the threads
Art is new, vicarious before
Road not taken but tread over sure

Countenance eyes first saw,
Those Hands balance gave
Withers away that smile
Is hinged on my trail

Once demons under my bed
I now nurture and covet
Responsibility and Duty raise their heads
Shining specks on my doubting mature self

Fight I do no longer
Treasure them instead
Make sure I don’t falter
Occasionally stand back and reflect

– Priyamvad