Topobiography

Topobiography

Life's joys are tenuous.
Most times it was uphill
And strenuous.
Now it's mostly downhill
And ominous, 
Unbefriended, my soul, 
As must be. 

I'd landed in the plain
Of my mother's lap. 
Watered by her love, 
A warm river, soothing, 
I learnt to float & swim. 

The land turned barren. 
Farmer's crop wasn't mine, 
I trudged in pain to grow
My inner food, silently. 

Then soon up the terrain;
Some climbed the rocks, 
Daring, confident, their gain
On me, whose awry trek
Made the hill seem higher
Than frankly it need be. 

I got to a point. Not high
For him who'd pointed way
To peak. But altitude was just
The hill of time in my mind. 
Not the hill of life, my life
Could have played in plains, 
Near the waters, near love. 
I'd laboured to be not me. 

And now, down. Biological
Gravity pulls, and i resist, 
Holding to branches, sides
Of rocks, trekkers climbing up, 
But nothing stops the slide. 

There's no hill, in truth it's
In the head. Stay happy 
Where you are, and then
Be swept away by love's
Waters, when flood comes.