Amidst consumerism… a prayer
Each year, we say This Year… and the years pass away.
It’s been long time since I drew… by words, any story. Or tried to capture with letter strings, drifting thoughts that use the space of my silence as a crossing station towards a destination… still unknown to me.
And here I am feeling out with my memories’ fingertips the ruins of engravings left by forgotten remembrances on the walls of my frightened silence – besieged by the monotonous noise of the winds of the consumerist becoming.
And in the blowing of the wind… I am merely a pollen particle which doesn’t know when will be the spring?
What I own grows more… but I feel I am becoming less.
Lord, I beg the solace of your company in this rampant ocean that drives everything far from you.
And forgive my…
Wronging of myself,
And my Despair… of me.