Thursday, April 9, 2009

Viraga (Non-attachment)

I lost my father’s wedding ring somewhere
A massive chunk of gold
Perched upon my thumb
It slipped its bounds and fled

The loss left me surprisingly unmoved
And that in turn has given me
A subtle glimpse of hope
That maybe I progress

If I can shed in increments
Trappings of my past
Objects of emotion
Maybe I can die a little bit each day

And, dying into life
Emerge reborn

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