The Baton and a Pair of Eyes...

This, is To him who seeks my baton,

Dear runner,

You know not the roads I have tread..
the Pits I have fallen in..
The hands and hearts
that have weaned me back on the path...
to this apparently tumultuous journey
without writ or order.


Yet I shall continue my journey..
as you pick up the baton
from whence i leave it...
The fabric of fate!


The threads abound in all directions...
I know not from whence the fabric begins
...nor ends...and then again..does it matter?


for woven through and through
the string knotting around each other...
melodious memories and myriad melancholies;


The fleeting fabric changes its shape..
sometimes in luscious mounds
and sometimes in lackadaisical vales.
sometimes tenaciously firm and creased
and someitimes lithe and supple.


and Yet, the knots they are constant...
regular, unchanging.. sometimes cruelly systematic.
yes, the fabric will be here.. and i will see you again!


..but will i know, it is you?
will the smiles still remind me
..of the same mounds and vales?