Something Missing *
A certain something’s missing and I’ve tried
To name it, but the words won’t come to mind;
Intangible, but nonetheless I find
The notion nags and will not be denied.
By contrast, I’ve a lengthy list of things
Of substance, shape and form that somehow strayed;
The pain of loss with time begins to fade –
Material goods to which I tried to cling.
What happened to them I may never know;
The precious book loaned to an erstwhile friend,
The antique brooch he gave me one weekend,
A lover I misplaced some years ago.
And nowadays I find that I care less;
Such losses are a trivial affair,
The sum of us is not invested there,
It’s what we are and not what we possess.
The process of ‘becoming’ never ends;
This sense of something missing is a part
Of the small and hidden corner at the heart
Of the mystery we cannot comprehend.
* Acknowledging Kierkegaard who emphasized something missing as the true
interpretative key to his life, and believed that we are always in the process of