Killing saudade,
That soft, strangling whisper,
Echoing the name.
What is in a name?
A reference of things known…..
or experienced?
Yes, no, neither, both;
All of it, the same, yet not…
Jumbled perspective.
Nothing but hindsight;
Sprinting from broken windows,
Trying to escape
Who threw the “right” stone?
Does shattered glass care for this?
To it, all are wrong.
The laugh of karma,
A hysterical sobbing
For life’s suffering;
From rubbled ruins,
So many broken windows,
Peers humanity;
Angry and afraid,
A hail of stones, set to loose,
Upon fragile pain
Upon fragile panes,
As if the world must shatter,
And all must suffer,
And all must despair;
So it may be bearable,
All things are broken.
Sickness, samsara;
That which feeds upon itself,
Sustained destruction.
Missing what is not,
Destroying all that now is,
Killing saudade…