Aide to the wandering ship

The Night in silence…
The night in silence, sings her ancient songs..
Songs of laughter and songs of tears, songs of heroes and songs of traitors, songs of lovers and songs of mongers...songs that warm the senses, songs that questions your thoughts, songs that initiate the heart, songs that elevate the soul...songs that leave you wondering where you've heard it all before.
The night in silence, sings her ancient songs...

Breathing to the rhythm of the night,
these ancient sidewalks, scarred with the pains,
who's to know the losses from the strange gains…
Forget the stepping stones, what does it matter where you started from?
Ignore the milestones, destination lies unknown..

Isn’t it strange how, as we drift on, we string together so many hopes, hope for so many dreams to be realised, dream to be in so many places, do so many things, be so many people. And isn’t it strange how we continue believing in so many contradictory opinions. Yes indeed! We are in the Theatre of the Paradox, each one of us a paradox in himself/herself…

Paradoxical perceptions, attitude unattested,
hovering questions, gnawing confusion…
Figures arise from the chambers of memory,
episodes indelible, faces stare into the soul.
Somewhere far off, love in tears, droplets salty accusing.
Arms that held love, now cold and broken,
cling frantically around themselves.
In desperation onto pieces of broken promises clinging.
While here, guilty and guilt, drifted by the tides of time
swallows bitterness and away from another episode walks.

Fluttering sails, switching banners, changing winds,
deep waters, free waters, aide to the wandering ship.
A sign for the drop of the anchor,
a harbor for the gang-plank,
a coloured banner to hoist,
…long in wait….in love with the wait…