Words don’t sound
anymore here,
Silence breeds from a
distance.
Do people feel it in
the air?
The stillness-
Of a magnanimous
turbulence.
Sights can console
hearts,
But the deafening
silence will still choke,
These people must now
seek,
New lands and make them
home.
But if darkness does
take over,
And the nights refuse
to pass,
They may only wish,
They remember voices
en-masse.
You were,
The physical
embodiment of life,
Flowing
without any qualms,
Some patches
dark, some bright.
Life
glides, like your flow,
In
waves, with its ripples.
Depositing
some slack-
Washing away
some,
Bringing
some back.
Like
you, we create some things good,
Nourish
them, savour them,
But
bound as we are,
Moving
forward, abandon – sometimes destroy them.
But like
that floating ball,
That, now and then, kept kissing my knees,
All that
has been created consciously,
Will be around-
as memories.
Maybe
Bruce was right,
When he
asked us to be like water.
But what
about the volcanoes amongst us?
Can
defining characteristics be altered?
Irrespective
of everything, I must confess,
This
tryst added to my being.
I left
behind a bit of me with you,
One
sided- couldn’t be this fling.
What
comes next, I care a damn.
For I
know, what comes will go,
And then
return, in pieces too small,
And then
I know, these ruins,
Will be
a part of it all.
I
assume, we do not live in isolate phases,
Each
phase makes us whole.
We need
to accommodate characters,
Living
or dead, as demands the role.
