Reincarnate

The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity.

Emelia Earhart

I know you wont believe me, but imagine i told you that I am a reincarnation, of all the men who ever walked the path of poetry and wielded the power of creativity. The greatest that ever lived and the smallest that ever breathed. Would you believe me? Or would you scoff at the arrogance of my ignorance?

Would you laugh at the absurdity of it all? Of me having lived more times than a cat? Or would you take a step out of your body for a bit and see things from my perspective?

Let’s pretend you believe me. What would happen then? Would you become cognizant of your soul and assume the role you have to play, as a poetess of the modern day, descendent of the old?

It would certainly be good if you were to repeat the lines you told me (and that i now hold dear) when we were inhabitants of that ancient city, in a kingdom filled with so much wisdom. Because then you and I would dance to the song of romance beating in our hearts. And there would be nothing wrong if our love becomes a metaphor, for bliss, that sometimes seems like sadness.

I no longer wield the creative ability possessed by William Shakespeare, so i fear i cannot compare thee to a flower; because my sense of smell has gone to hell and i can’t tell how well you don’t stink. I am on a different path of poetry now. I prefer to liken you to Maya Angelo, for the way my heartbeat rose when you entered my life.

In another life you would have been my wife. But in this one, Cupid did something stupid by not shooting you with the arrow that brings sorrow when you are not near me. So unfortunately, i have to wait as patiently as eternity for my next life to have you.

© Lazarus Shatipamba 2020

The Poets Peace

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