#mordenpoetry
This morning began with discipline.
A clear mind.
Plans arranged like soldiers.
A wedding somewhere in the city
that meant nothing to me.
I had already decided
I would not go.
Crowds have never tempted me.
Noise has never persuaded me.
My days belong to quieter battles.
Then your name entered the morning.
Just one small sentence--you are going.
And suddenly
the entire day leaned slightly in your direction.
I tried to remain reasonable.
After all, what is one person
in the architecture of a life?
But reason is a poor guard
against certain eyes.
So I stood there arguing with myself
while the engine of my bike refused to start.
Perhaps machines understand fate
better than men.
By the time I considered the bus
you had already left.
The road closed.
And that should have been the end of it.
Yet something curious happened.
Instead of returning to my books,
to my ambitions,
to the tall mountains of the future--
my mind travelled with you.
I remembered something small
you once said in passing:
“I get sick in buses.”
Such a simple confession.
But today
that sentence carried weight.
Suddenly I could see it-- a moving bus,
dust in the afternoon light,
your face turned slightly toward the window
trying to escape the rhythm of the road.
Later I heard
you went to the station instead.
Now the picture changed.
A platform.
Crowds pressing forward.
A train breathing smoke and metal.
And somewhere in that restless tide
you--standing quietly among strangers.
Tell me honestly:
why should this matter to me? A rational man
would call this unnecessary tenderness.
He would say a disciplined life
has no time for such wandering thoughts.
Perhaps he is correct.
Even I suspect this level of attention
may be slightly absurd.
And yet--truth does not always obey logic.
Today
this is where my mind lived.
Between a wedding I never attended
and a train I never boarded.
Between the man I am trying to become
and the quiet gravity
of a girl
who does not even know
that her simple journey home
became the entire geography
of my day.
Maybe tomorrow
I will laugh at this.
Maybe tomorrow
reason will return
and place everything back
into neat order. But tonight
I will not lie to myself.
Today one ordinary girl
walking through an ordinary day
somehow managed
to turn a disciplined man’s mind
into poetry!!
WORK FROM:
To her who already knows
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 2:30 PM UTC