A Lone Sentinel

 The Sunday Muse #179

How you store memories within the walls of

Brick and mortar?

How come sepia shaded shadows bring images of a dancing past

A happy childhood and echoes of laughter?

The magic word is...nostalgia!

So many floating memories 

Lurks in invisible shapes

In every nook and corner.

Wants, desires, trust and beliefs

Carefree childhood, bubbling lives

A peal of birth, a cry of death

Everything amalgamated 

In the fires of existence.

Once, seasons of  warmth and experiences

Trudged through the whispering boughs

Now, there are silent wails

As the birds encroach the space

Where once emotional bonds survived.

Autumn not only breathes in the hearts of a past

It even touches the soul of a bricked wall.

    Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Precipice

 

The Sunday Muse: #178

Softly thudding hours

move on tight wires

each hour a painful step

holding life at a standstill

 fear grips 

at every waking moment

will there be a tomorrow

or  silent hands in flight

the precipice

in sight and thoughts

resonates silently

to be or not to be

how easy it would be

to take the leap

and end this restlessness

in one silent moment of faith.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

Every Breathe Counts

     The Sunday Muse#177

Walking on a tight rope

A generation moved on

Learning and unlearning

An array of experiences.

There were times

When the skin felt alive

Hooked on a string

Like counting hours.

Now, a twist felt

Not only in bones

But also in every breathe

As one strings the

Shades of salt and pepper.

Still, there is joy

Flowing in the veins

With a slight wobble here

And a deep whisper there

Stands strong, a diehard believer

On unsteady hands.

Participating in : The Sunday Muse

A Long Journey

 The Sunday Muse #176

Thirty six years have passed

When I crossed those

Verdant mountains

From one coast to another.

Winding through those highways

Many serpentine images flash

Peppered with spurted breakdowns,

Sprinkled with some sweet and sour moments,

Many happy memories, and lots of water under the bridge.

A lifetime of nostalgia wrapped deep in the heart.

Once in a while I rummage through those pages

To find myself, remembering a young spirited 

Innocent and vulnerable me.

Time has left many scars on the way

But, life has been  kind

All the battle marks are intact

Guiding me through the waning seasons

I smile and heal in the blushing sunset.

Participating in: The Sunday Muse