Let me get back into the ring

L

 Let me put the gloves on and get back into the ring,
slay all the demons, perk up to work on a new song to sing.

                                                             
On my mental screen, I still see a small shikara, back home,
humming its way to the shore, as we sing along,
 and the other shikaras resounding with sounds
of once more.
Once more, overwhelmed by the scent of water lilies,
I imagine a warm pearly dawn,
foretelling a breathtakingly beautiful, crisp day.

 Ah, there I am again, lying in shallow water,
in languorous warmth, rocked ever so gently
 by the faint, rippling song of the waves;
why cave in to despair, then?

 I recall how the night descended, so soft, so cool,
 the sharp, soothing song of the cicadas pouring over us,
infusing a new life into our tired feet and overwhelmed heart.

It was the distilled essence of life in its merry hues.  
Somewhere an engine of a motor boat
died away in a final sputter,
but we were home, alive and kicking.


So, let me put on a pair of new gloves and get back into the ring,
slay all the demons, perk up to work on a new song to sing.




sing.

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