The Past
One afternoon, by
the river bank ,
I listened to the wind rustling leaves.
I saw where blue sky met tree tops ,
A yearning rose within me; of someone
some past scene.
Pictures , songs , roads travelled ,
one by one flashed before me .
I searched the corner of my heart
where hidden dreams lurked
and scooped them up to savour.
I sailed in my dreams
and basked in my thoughts ,
I floated like a dancing leaf.
What made me so gay, so complacent?
Voices from the past!
Did you hear those birds sing?
The birds sang on .
They did not disturb my reverie.
Time stretched before me
Leisure was my friend
as memories haunted me!
Come now, you spirits of the past,
let me bathe in your flickering light.
I , a passenger of time,
who drags her days in drudgery ,
fret and turn in dreams of a life time,
will only wake at the end of it.
Let time stand still, hours lengthen.
Let each second tick away slowly.
All this while , nature around me sang .
A bird flew by and called out shrilly.
Startled , I saw myself the first time
under an old oak tree beside the river.
Evening approached .
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