A Poem from the Book:
“Poems of the Living Present” ( a book of 13 poems)
When I was young,
Windows were simple things
In different sizes and forms,
with two simple,
but
Highly essential functions,
One was bringing the daylight
into my room,
And,
in the high heat of summertime,
Freshening it
With a pleasant flow of air.
But now
That my borrowed body
Is worn out
and gravely tired,
And
absolutely unable to move out,
And accompany my self-created Soul,
Far beyond the horizons
Of thought and imagination,
My room is my Body
And my window
the companion of my Soul
And the expanse of Her journey
The Universe of my Life.
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