Belated Angst

It doesn’t make sense
the chaos, the confusion
the criss-cross lines
the zig-zag puzzle
the irregular pieces
that don’t fit together
the jagged edges
the ragged corners.
It all falls down, falls apart
Is that when it really starts?
Will I wait my whole life
for that one epiphany?
And will it come only when
the ashes mix with water?
Will the secret be whispered
to my soul then?

The gnawing,
unseen, unrecognized
Inside.
They say “smell the roses,”
and I try.
Maybe it’s the cowardliness
to pause and look
really look and see.
After all, it’s numbingly hazy
when it just rushes by.
The speed of the ride offers
a strange kind of solace.
And then what when I hit a speed bump
and be thrown towards the sky?
Will I fall flat on my face?
Or will I surrender to the air
And learn to finally
fly free?

-Neha, 2002