The Book Of Tomorrows Poem by Baru Gobira

Jan 2010

None know the thoughts a poet writes
Much less of where the intent lies
At times the road does lead
To a store of life’s most sublime deed
A moment of peace, a day of sorrow
Lines the shelf where lies the book of tomorrows;
None know the anguish in his heart
Much less the fountainhead of thoughts
That has been wrought on a night of dreams
Floating gently in the valley of poetic streams;
So much of life the ripples carry
That he must huddle under the starry skies
Brought back to life and earth, as it must be
To string again the words of might
That may reside one day in the book of strife.

Baru Gobira 2010