THOSE WERE THE DAYS

I looked up at the dark sky, searching for the Gods.
The roads below were wet,
Sparkling fresh from the afternoon rain.
‘Why do you drench me with those cold drops?’ I ask them.
‘Is this a blessing?
Or do you wet my eyes with fresh tears,
That have gone dry under the dust, the toil.’

Those were the days, when I made merry.
Sang under the trees, danced with the leaves,
And laughed when you hid the sun in your closet,
To bathe the earth with relentless shower.
Those were the days, when I wrote on the leaflets,
In tune with your seasons, the winds and the storms.
I used to lie still on the wet grass,
The cold dew nudging my skin,
Forcing a smile on my lips.
Then she would wake me with a kiss, the girl I loved.
I would sit on the grass, holding her hand
And we would bask under the warm sun, so fresh and bright.

Gone are the days, when I would run up the hills,
And sing along with the birds that flew home.
When I plucked those red apples in the dusk
And waived at the sun as it returned to its nest.
Gone are the days, when I would cycle down to the dunes
And play with the sand as it slipped through my fingers.
When I would watch the moon play with the stars,
And stay up all night, not worrying for the morrow.

Now as the raindrops slide through my temples,
I wonder if those days have returned.
But when I touch the wet grass blades,
They cut into my tender skin, don’t tickle me anymore.
The cold dew clings to my eyes, and melts in the heat,
And as I shy away from the bright sun, I realize
That I am not as young as I used to be.

Is this the end?

Will I never be able to play with the rain again?
Or laugh when the wet leaves would brush against my skin?
Will I shine in the sand under the bright red sun?
Or will my skin wilt under the blistering heat?
As I lie crouched in a corner of my room, I wonder
If my fingers would ever tremble under a beloved’s touch,
Or dance in the air like the lovely stripes of a rainbow.
The thoughts come and go, the rain becomes a myth.
I strain my ears to hear the evening birds’ hark,
And yearn to smell the red roses, fresh from the rains.

But the earth seems as dark as my solitude,
Denied of emotions, of love and of sense.
I yearn for the morrow, a new day with new hope.
Of renewed love, of smelling the fragrant roses again.
Of singing with the winds and the sun,
And make the trees and the birds dance
To my new-found melody.

Conversation with a tree.

I dreamt of you the other day.

You were no different than you are now.

Slim, dumb and utterly boring.

You were full of life and green,

Yet stood alone like an age-old carcass.

You never talked, that most people did.

I had a few things to say, and I went to the people.

They heard me, but I knew they didn’t.

For they were too busy preaching their rehearsed lines.

I knew a bit of what they had to say,

So I didn’t listen to them either.

You were among them too,

Yet you didn’t scratch your ear, or prick on your nose,

Or appear like the all-knowing saint who foresaw doom.

But I kept my eyes on you, all the time.

For you were the only one listening.

Now that the dream is gone,

The words are now a fade, the memories past.

But your tall frame was never lost on me.

And today as I walk down the widowed path,

That was once a paved street,

I chance upon you again, tall and slender,

As you proudly display your leaves like wings of Icarus.

The tips of your roots, like eagle claws, cling on to the mud,

And your thick stem stands proudly amidst the tiny herbs.

Oh tree, the guardian of time,

Did you really listen to me the other day?

Or are you as dumb as you are mute?

Do you really feel the aching in my human heart?

The lost cravings, the treacherous demons,

Who have returned to haunt my soul?

As I suffered in the hands of the unfaithful,

The lost friends that have turned to foes.

Now as I sit at your feet,

I can feel your soft fingers

As they mend and brush my hair.

I can hear the soft sound of the wind

As it slides through your countless leaves.

Say nothing, my friend.

For here I can stay and tend to your nails,

And talk about the sadness, the pain,

The despair that I could never share.

On Friendship ...

The night was now old, wrinkled and shy,

The birds that too flew, to invade the morning sky.

My room was still draped, wretched and dark

As the curtains shielded me from the early rooster's hark.

I was still wide-awake, dreamy and unkempt,

When I came to terms with my insomniac self.

The dawn had now bloomed, and it whispered in.

And so had the sun, with many a golden fin.

I kept sitting still, staring at the turn of fate,

As the darkness was gone, engulfed in nature's breath.

Still crouched under the covers, I could hear the distant waves rise,

The purple clouds were now a blur of flying kites.

I could only see the empty sheets, and the solitary nest,

But not the din, the clatter of the early morning fest.

My heart wished to soar to an even greater height,

From where it could behold the sole enchanting sight.

I struggled with my limbs, still in the grasp of dark.

My mind anything but numb, now yearned for the cold park.

I reached for the door, my fingers turning the metal handle.

The early sun scorched my eyes, and I scampered back to the candle

Closing my eyes again, I prayed for the nightmare to end

But the pain still persisted, and so did the nightly fiend.

Longing to be under the sun, and near to the cold falls,

I waited for the moment when I could move on.

Hours must have passed, for the sun rose above the panes,

And I felt a cold shiver, a burning fever that it did tame.

A soft hand now touched my palm, its feathers melting in the lines,

As the blood returned to my limbs, I suddenly felt just fine.

The hand pulled on its hold, tugging my pains away,

And I felt my soul sway, as it wet along its way.

The soul was now free, I felt the pain was gone,

I emerged from the dark chamber, hoping it still was dawn.

The hand that clasped mine was now a blinding sight,

As I beheld the human figure, my soul lost is fright.

Still dazed from the harrowing pain, I now turned my eyes to the breeze,

Cold winds greeted my eyes, as I breathed in the nature's freeze.

Buoyed by the tempest's glory, the figure pulled me along

And I floated into the wind that now sung the healer's song.

As we sailed through the winds, I felt its fingers bend,

As the figure that kept so still, now turned its kindly head.

It was now drizzling, as my soul leapt in glee,

Fro it was you my eyes beheld in the wind.

You took me through the clouds, and across the plains,

As I could now scan the hills, the snow and the gray lanes.

We floated through the sky, and hummed the songs we knew,

Spoke of the distant memories, and the tears that were few.

It seemed like eternity, as we turned our paths together

And flew over the fields that swayed in the cold weather.

I could soon see the nearby hills, as my soul sang in ecstasy,

As we started descending after a journey that came as a blessing.

You took me to my porch, and then waved goodbye,

As my heart came to life when the soul entered its body.

I turned my head, and saw you turn and leave the hive,

And sprung from my bed, as the heavenly dream turned to life.

Blood rushed through my veins, the plague was now gone,

And rush to the streets I did, as of pain I knew none.

I flew to the lush gardens, to the trees of palm and berry,

And to the parks and the dunes where we used to make merry.

And then I saw you, as you waited for me all this while,

Fro you lit the candle of my life with the same heavenly smile.

I ran straight to you, and gave you a warm embrace,

For this life I did owe to you, this life that you did bless.

The stars smiled down on us, and sent down the heavenly rains,

For I had a friend like you, a friend worth the grace.