About a year ago, I wrote this poem for a stranger, not knowing if we'd ever meet again. We were strangers after all.
But one late night, at 2:00am, down at some sketchy cafe in Leith, our lives crossed once more:
"A poem... For you... I wrote one!" I didn't know her name, but it was the first thing I said as she walked through the door.
Later that night, before the day dawned, I read it to her. On the mic and everything. There's a recording of it somewhere, but I hope it never sees the bright light of the internet.
Anyway, here it is. The poem, titled 'Stranger...'.
On the royal mile,
Our paths connected,
Crossed, merged
Like bow and arrows
Into souls and bodies.
Dismissing things at hand -
The flyers to 'Mason King:
Mind Control' in her bag -
We conversed in a free verse.
As vast as clouds, as open;
Intentions clear as water
We related unrelated subjects;
World views on nations,
Butchers and aprons;
Moving free of constricts,
Like love. (and it is all love)
Living language, connecting,
Like knowledge. But understanding
Misunderstanding - that language
Ravels and unravels truth.
Unconscious words escaped us
Like breaths; elated us like poems;
And like both, changed us.
Independence dissipated like a moment.
Inspired, I recited poem by heart
To her heart.
"Did you write that?" She asked
When the poem had run into silence.
"Aye." I said. "All I."
She just hugged me,
Embraced me tight like skin.
"Maaaaan..." She said
Like she was calling
To us all.
To all humanity.
And then continued the silent ending.
And like that, in her arms,
I broke;
Thinking of self, ego
And everyone else.
Everything else.
<3
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