The immensity of the realisation,
Makes you bow down.
Clap for yourself,
This is no ordinary task.
Gulp it down with your age.
Years of “suffering” have prepared you,
For what is yet to come.
But if this is your metamorphosis,
You roam around naked.
If the sun should drown you with its rays,
The sea, choke you with its freshness,
The sands of time, evolve your thoughts,
And Nature, encircle you with her passion for life,
Would you be prepared to embrace it all when the time comes?
This sadness, this sadness, this sadness,
What is it?
What is it,
If you do not SEE all that belongs to you.
My sweet drinker,
Do not turn back.
Those fears have long perished,
Perished like the ashes of your fore-fathers.
Reminders don’t make one strong,
Only extend the battle’s perpetual night.
This crown of self-denial,
Takes a grotesque shape with every acceptance.
The glory of your position,
Intoxicates you.
A life, this life, your life,
Is all that is yours.
Pushing it away,
Only doubles its importance.
Dream of that paradise,
Drown yourself into your passion,
Dust away that past.
This river of life turned sweet,
On your acknowledging its existence.
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nICE 1 something diff tis time , any person who understands its true meanin ll surely slap himself n be like "damn ! shes rite" ... well m bad at comments n stuff .
ReplyDeleteinteresting poem actually.............its very true.......
ReplyDeletei agree....one's gotta move on!!.....though maturity comes with experience and age, sometimes i feel its too late.........
cause you've already become a victim.........you know what ? sometimes i feel you're narratin the story of my life........
Dear Sushmita,
ReplyDeleteI have been reading your blog for a while, ever since I read a poem of yours on your sister's computer. I have been an on-off visitor since. I felt I must post a comment on this poem though, because I feel that even though I myself wrote my best poetry at your age, I feel jealous of the subtle nuances you explore with your verse so easily. I write free rhyme too, but increasingly find myself becoming too self-conscious of rhyme and metre. But you are a natural.
Your themes are universal and yet complex. I hope you keep the subtle, mysterious quality your poetry seems to have, because to me, nothing is a truer reflection of oneself than the metaphors we choose to dream and contemplate with. And yours are brilliant.
Kanishk.
MICA.
This is beautiful Sush!
ReplyDeleteI shall read this the next time I'm feeling low.