Last year on this very night,
You taxied out for your final flight.
None knew as
No one was told,
Else all would put
All on hold.

But all do know that we can not,
Such helpless happens to be our lot.
When homo sapiens decide to fly,
Some of us have to merge,
With the sky.

For despite all advancements made,
All the procedures too well laid.
In spite of a simple tip,
I don’t know how we tend to skip;
Time after all got a way to slip.

But worry not my dear friend,
For memories do not just end,
By your going into the blue-jade yonder,
They actually grew much tender
Fonder.

~Glow Worm~

 

 (In memory of my winged buddy “Mukho” who merged with the desert sky on 27-28 January, night- riding his chariot of fire)

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