Pacing

In my restlessness at evening light

I pace like a madman with all my might 

Relentless circles I tightly race

The width of the room I continually pace

One foot down, then another once more

Hands on hips, I pace the floor 

When - suddenly! - ambient noises arise

Invaders! - turning my meditative mind awry 

Tagore’s melodies glide through the air

Curry stews soothingly with no fanfare

Mother murmurs indistinctly, soft as can be

Sounds of my mother envelop me

But I cannot stop, this tread must go on

One step, one foot, the carpet gets worn

Back and forth, from room to room

Round and round, ignoring all the fumes

A rhythmic beat, a pulsing refrain

All my thoughts ignite, collide with no restrain

The world within me begins to wake

And then it strikes — the realization! — a quake, an ache

This walk of mine will go on

Long after the sounds of my mother is gone

The difference in our age makes the truth plain

Her form will fade, while this march of mine will remain

Inspiration

The idea for this piece came when I was pacing up and down the length of my family’s house. I heard the sounds my mother was making and the poem popped into my head.

Process

The poem contains the following rhyming scheme: ABAB.