I've become what people call a "crying jag", and yet I don't know why.
Maybe it's the chemistry (the oxytocin in the air), the atmosphere and the weather that is giving me the chills. I do sound self-obsessed when I say this. But a few days back, I was Darth Vader! Literally jeering at everyone and getting a kick out of everything. And all of a sudden now, here's my alter ego: Plain Jane with the Flu. -_-
Well, anyways I have been doing some poetry-hunting. And here's an unforgettable poem that was once taught to me in the world literature classroom, IB. :)
It's simple, down-to-earth and longs for something; which is how I felt when its words touched me to the core. I had dedicated this poem to someone once, and it still remains one of my favorite poems.
I come
from an opposite country
to yours, where water spirals
and the moon waxes
otherwise.
my stars assemble in unfamiliar patterns
and I watch often
not traffic or television
but hour by hour the huge tide
absently fingering rocks and small shells
and the wet brown kelp
where fish go sliding through.
if you were with me now
on my favorite beach
we’d watch the distant seismograph
of silver peaks darkening to indigo
and walk on the breakwater
towards the harbor mouth,
disturbing the flocks of terns
that wheel up shrieking in slim wild voices
to land again behind us
renewing their conference. I would slip
my cold hand in your pocket,
you’d look at me and grin
and we would walk together quietly
right to the very end,
where big chained rocks hold back
the same Pacific ocean, lumbering in.
~Cilla McQueen, 2001
