can be held in a moment
it would seem
Abundance in microcosm
Darkness spreading its arms around me,
like rain drops covering the ground, quick and fast.
Turning it moist and dark.
Darkness holds me in its arms,
and I am not afraid.
for I feel the warmth,
This light that sets me aglow inside.
my heart, a bright flame
Never mocking the darkness
its not a wish to conquer
a mere dream to be let on my own way
for it is only darkness
that lets me be, who I really am.
Twilight of countless days,
Drifting by , in a silent procession.
Twilight of thoughts,
the wistful story telling time.
The hour is not for fairy tales.
The hour of the dreamer,
you know, the one who is unrealistic and impractical,
is the eclectic presence of reality and the fantastic.
spreading slowly along the skyline of imagination,
like the glowing, fading, shifting colors of twilight,
grand at once, mundane and coarse sometimes,
and however short lived,
leave traces in memory to last too long.
Fallen yellow flowers underneath,
The same tree I pass by, every day.
The very same road,
Where we walked and laughed.
I walked and cried.
Same people over the years.
Same old jokes, only new wrinkles.
Gray hair in some,
in others just tell tale signs,
That time has passed on.
Babies growing up to be petulant kids.
Change is every where.
And yet the roads, trees and buildings
Set silent under the same unyielding sky
With its unchanging exalted stars
remain the same.
Making it difficult to believe
that all the things ever happened
were true, and that
I did come along,
All the way through.
Glad for the wind that ruffles my hair today
the sand beneath the sun kissed feet
as I walk along the shore
the water lapping gently along
caressing me at once
going away coming back
swaying gently with the unique knack
like the wistful memories of childhood
bright and dark
part of me , where each small mark
of everything that ever happened resides
one thought here, one memory there
when I am surprised by everyone
surprises are not always nice
I remember that the wave has gone back only for a moment
the wealth of memory and the lessons learnt will be back
here with me as I walk
along the shore
Across the continents people live in homes
Very much like mine but not in the least bit similar
Sunlight beaming through their wide open kitchens
Sipping coffee in the morning, sitting by the bright windows
Some searching for the last lost chance in the tattered purse
To bring home something to eat, a meal that has no time, nor name
Eventually someone comes along after a long time
Time that I spent working, running around, being lazy and talking to friends
All the time, feeling alone,
Never mind if there’s are twenty people with me or one
How have you been my friend?
It’s been a really long time since we last spoke
You’ve been doing things I see,
All by yourself you say?
I hope you wouldn’t feel too lonely
It all comes back in a rush,
Sunlight, walks beside the rivers in places that I never visited
A mere fragment of a bygone conversation
A piece of someone’s imagination
Breathes its warm promise into the cold corners of the mind
Friends who stay close, those who are far away
all of them talk and try to keep the warmth flowing
distances, and things are mere formalities
closeness is a matter of heart and thought
When exactly was I lonely?
It’s probably the most difficult thing to achieve
Because the whole wide world never left the room
In bits and pieces once, and then in unfathomable entirety.