One More Fall

Once again it is that time of the year,

the vibrant colors of fall,

and the grounded and unkempt foliage,

does little by itself to hide the path.

The path to her final destination,

hopefully one day,

my final destination as well.

God does what he can,

to cover my path with leaves.

As this year, so the previous.

The leaves are dry,

never the memories.

I will never forget,

the path to her dusty abode,

even if she wants me to.

Eons from now,

we will be together once again,

in some other world she resides.

The same way we were,

in this world she resided

Yesterday.

She is dead,

I will be dead tomorrow,

but the feeling, that never dies.

As I tread the familiar ground,

the ground no one wants to be familiar with,

my heart starts to get heavy,

I know, I can sense,

her stony grave aching for his heart.

Of all the seasons the creator envisioned,

this, for me, is the worst.

This, for me, will remain the worst.

September has passed,

October does prevail.

As the trees punctuated the mellow of the winds abound,

I turned around,

leaving a bouquet of flowers,

a few drops of tears,

and a memory of lifetime,

on her feet.

Or rather on the epitaph,

that marked her feet.

Your memories are older,

by one more fall.

I turned around,

back to the road which led me here.

Come I will next fall, if alive.

Else before, if not.

WAKE ME UP WHEN SEPTEMBER ENDS……….

As the gleaming visage of September descends upon you,fading away from from an eventful yesterday and with a promise of a glittering tomorrow,one can’t help feeling nostalgic.

September,to a child,is an embodiment.It is personified as the lovely little lass,the ninth princess of that king having twelvew daughters.That lass which William Wordsworth famously quoted in his masterpiece “The Solitary Reaper” :

“ Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
Reaping and singing by herself,
Stop here,Or gently pass!! “

A question that once on haunted me was if August was derived from the mighty Augutus Ceaser,who was the one worthy of crowning September with that emphatic title?Though that mystery still remains,I am justified in not searching for the solution-so that let my imagination run wild and quench my thirst for a worthy answer.

September marks exuberance.It is a case of colourful sabotage of one pleasant season to another.The transition is always symbolic-rhyming well with the metamorphosis from childhood to adulthood via adolescence.The dynamism,vibrance and collages of adolescence are skillfully portrayed in the comparison with September.

But things have taken a violent tur-for the worse.September has now become synonymous with terrorism-ranging from 9/11 attacks to the Madrid bomb blasts.The glory and ecstasy once September possessed is now hypothecated to bloodshed.That lovely little maiden whose humming once sounded so sweet,before whom the poet had to admit himself,has lost her adjectives.The note she sings,no longer rhymes with Mozart’s symphony but amplifies the woes of many.

Beautiful creations ought to last forever.A month which I once cherished,September,is no longer the same old September.It has changed-in appearance,in stature and more importantly,in morals.It is difficult to comprehend the downfall that occurred to the mighty September.But the giant wheel of time keeps rotating,hopefully erasing many memories with time.I feel like laying down,embracing the fortress of slumber,hoping that time will provide me with the right anecdote for healing my mind.

Do wake me up,but wake me up only when September ends…..only when September ends……