Thursday, April 21, 2011

Reflections of Fools

A cafe window
and a face turns
to the streets of enterprise

There beyond the smeared glass
rain drips over the sheltered places,
a seamless grey world

that haunts ambition,
the muted toll of tomorrow
that never comes

Still there
is a quiet contentment
in the faces of coffee-shop thinkers

Mindful sorting out
gives birth to intention
A pause in industry

is the mortar of creativity,
a place to brood over fools
and workplace woes,

sanctuary to the somber days
A gift of solitude and hot steam
where the soul is restored

in the depths of passion
and the day yearns for itself
through the crying panes

No comments:

Post a Comment