The other day, I was in the shower
Watching the silver stream
Descend from perpetuity,
Obscuring me in a dream.
As I wetted my hand with water
I was drenched in its verve;
Engulfed in a trance so beautiful
I sought my unconscious half.
I put four droplets on the bathroom
wall
Each small and round,
Gazed at them with sodden eyes
As they raced for the ground.
Each of them were in a hurry,
Trickling down the wall,
Jostling their way ahead
Crawling ,crawling, crawl.
One went dry before it made the
sink,
One went down in a run,
The two other went meandering
Only to become one.
The sound of philosophy.
Ringing deep inside my soul
Was an insight poised subtly.
In the end it doesn’t matter
Whether you succeed or fail,
It’s what you have left in your
path
It’s all about the trail.
