Once treasured moments
May become painful

On the other hand
The converse can occur also

The eye
(and heart)
Of the beholder
Journey on

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on November 24, 2012, in Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.

  1. it’s that letting go that is so hard, at least for some. it’s the not ever having those connections that keep us/i searching the past and not trusting the future. it’s a journey of the mind and heart guided by the soul.


    • I’m not sure I understand what you mean here by “connections”.


      • as a child I never felt connected to my parents, my grandmother was my only link to family and I lost her when I was 8 so that link was lost. Strange how the mind can take off on its on road when everyone else is traveling a different one..sorry about that.


      • I too had no connections with my family as a child, or rather whatever ones I had as an infant were shattered fairly early on. Instead I built a strong sense of identity with my one good and dependable friend: myself.

        One of the many, many reasons why I love “The Tōkaidō Road” (and yes, I know I keep harping on about it 😛 ) is this:

        “Cat sang the words silently to herself as she lay in the darkness of the shabby room,

        ‘So lonely am I
        My soul is a floating weed
        Severed at the roots.’ “


  2. You and Aunt Bea seem to be in agreement.


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