Trumpets

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Do we have an obligation to Fate, God or ourselves when we are being born or don't we owe anybody - including ourselves - anything? Or put in another way: Is there a reason why we are here?

Submitted: January 17, 2011

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Submitted: January 17, 2011

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I heard my name in the wind
called out like a flourish of trumpets
not something that goes unheard
something one may miss or ignore
no, absolutely not
resounding in vibrant tones it made itself heard

Was it a dream sent out by my own soul?
A forgotten message from me to myself?
Something I should remember, but had forgotten?
Or was I summoned by someone?
Maybe put under an obligation

I don't know, a riddle formed in my life
no clues came to me, no solutions
only some questions: Am I on the right track?
Did I do what I was meant to do?
Could I be guilty of crimes I don't know of?

My ears are tuned in to trumpets
however, they listen in vain
still, the flourish is there
somewhere in the blood at my temples
in my heart - in what's me, a flourish sings out

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