Come back to your ‘self’...

After all your wanderings with

Memories that rummage through
old words for comfort,
that gaze at forgotten pictures
for traces of frail links

Hope that shops for trinkets
or leaps to hold the moon

Despair that shovels up
old hurts and failures,
that lives among sighing shadows
that thin away only to re-form

Dreams that droop and drop dead
or trickle away and dry up,
that perforate over time
or become brittle

After all your wanderings with
these

Come back to your ‘self’,
the still centre,
the only true refuge
from all restive driftings.

Outsider

One sullen morning
I stood outside my own door
like a stray dog

With benighted eyes
I stand outside my true self
immersed in false gloom