April 4 – written as part of the National Poetry Month Challenge.
There’s something gently heroic,
about you and me.
The simple act of getting off the bed,
placing our achy soles on the ground,
limping to the loo, dragging
that borderline obese body
through the grind of the day.
Epic love stories written in countless
wet towels picked off the bed,
woven into those ‘traffic stultified
drop-offs on the way to work.’
Life and death encounters fought
on a different kind of battlefield.
There are even some Lochinvars
amongst us,
but no one will ever write an ode
about him, or you, or me.
There is in us an odd courage,
as we bare our souls, build walls
but not too tall, reach out with
doubtful hands and vulnerable hearts,
as we live, love and die….
like a million other lives,
the center of the universe and
a grain of sand, all at once.
The monotonous drudge of
getting through one day, and then
the next day, and the next!
Even the angels must be exhausted,
watching us.
Yet here we are.
Staring blearily into the fogged-up mirror,
as we brush our teeth, hurting and aching,
thirsting for life, frightened of death,
praying that we can do this all over again!
- Binu Sivan
PAPER DREAMS 