Memories throng, like the incessant patter,
Of a rainy night.
Like showers of nectar on to the hull of the soul.
The fading mist; diluted evening glow
Entering, into the gloom of a dreary night.
The dismal wailing of a forlorn bird, in the distance.
All sneaking at the door of my earthen hut,
And getting away, never even uttering
A word of consolation, to me…
Why did you re-emerge, in my dear flute
As a sonata of an amiable daze,
Resonating in my forlorn psyche?
Like the crescent moon, having lost its way
Among the darkened clouds,
You came to me, in compliant diffidence
Shrouded in a veil, in accord, with my
Mute and imposing imagination.
We built our castles with glass and card boards,
On a shore of the sea, of idle tears.
We coveted to live eternally, beyond time and tides.
Through millenniums; you and me, alone.
My existent being is worthless, except that
I can merely felicitate you, for an enjoyable life;
Sans reminiscence, sans lost aspirations, and yearnings,
Sans rancour, and frustrations.
Enveloped in rapture, I will put a lid,
On top, of all my longings, hitherto cherished.
How many more births and seasons I will have to greet, in my life?
How far my birth will extend to own you? I don’t know…