Bowed by a fifty and score,
Of memories that gradually grey,
I choose from a basket of flowers,
To rest upon her once cascading hair.
A rusty saddle rescued from the creaky cupboard
And a faded overcoat that refuges,
More reminiscences than cobwebs;
I mount upon all that remains
Of once a blistering beast
And I set out; much like a quixotic knight.
Unsure of what trail must I choose,
Whether it’s the ginger hills or the lush plain.
Soul searching for an answer-
Can I begin to live again?
A final fleeting look cast upon
Cracked bricks that were once sealed with love,
A goodbye tear trickled over
The yard that once cradled tender feet.
An yellowing snapshot from the distant past
Tucked safely into my breast
I set out with my only remaining friends;
The winding country lane and the gentle zephyr.
Exploring unseen horizons,
Striding upon the path to nowhere.
I feel liberated from a numbing sense of pain.
Here, I think I’ve found my answer-
Can I begin to live again?
Authored and shared by - Bhaskaryya Baruah
Of memories that gradually grey,
I choose from a basket of flowers,
To rest upon her once cascading hair.
A rusty saddle rescued from the creaky cupboard
And a faded overcoat that refuges,
More reminiscences than cobwebs;
I mount upon all that remains
Of once a blistering beast
And I set out; much like a quixotic knight.
Unsure of what trail must I choose,
Whether it’s the ginger hills or the lush plain.
Soul searching for an answer-
Can I begin to live again?
A final fleeting look cast upon
Cracked bricks that were once sealed with love,
A goodbye tear trickled over
The yard that once cradled tender feet.
An yellowing snapshot from the distant past
Tucked safely into my breast
I set out with my only remaining friends;
The winding country lane and the gentle zephyr.
Exploring unseen horizons,
Striding upon the path to nowhere.
I feel liberated from a numbing sense of pain.
Here, I think I’ve found my answer-
Can I begin to live again?
Authored and shared by - Bhaskaryya Baruah
1 comment:
Tells in an imaginative manner the way in which optimism is breeding in an old heart...
Awesome...
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