Judgements in passing

Passing through greyish corridors, I am judged

By grave faces bearing veils of tabloid grievance,

who seek to rectify old debts and new bondages

That I am utterly innocent of bestowing upon them.

Yet people feel they are owing, when they should be knowing,

To bend their egotism, gather friends and foes, yet culpa,

strangeness in relations

That made them forget true selves, before imagined change.

The landscape Is not shifting, The trees surrounding the

lake point to the generous Mountain ranges, ever climbing waterfalls calling.

I open the door and exit, struck by daylight to seek out the wilderness.

- Rahul Palma