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
Oh yes, the magic word is nostalgia.......the past shines golden the older we grow......a lovely poem.
ReplyDelete"Autumn not only breathes in the hearts of a past / It even touches the soul of a bricked wall." Entropy comes for us all...
ReplyDeleteThis image captures us all, and inspires us to speak for the memories it holds within. Well done.
ReplyDeleteSo many truths wonderfully spoken here Sunita! So many floating memories indeed! This is so lovely!
ReplyDeleteindeed, that would be the magic word. and very warm feeling poem, enjoyed very much
ReplyDeleteIndeed. Loved this, Sunita.
ReplyDeleteWarm and perfectly autumnal. Love the ending stanza.
ReplyDeleteAh yes, the magic of nostalgia. Love this, especially the last two lines.
ReplyDeleteYou are right .... the seasons permeate any and every wall we face. Personal and thru bricks.
ReplyDeleteAn interesting read, Sunita. I chose this question to try answering. "How you store memories within the walls of Brick and mortar?" A good reason for taking pictures, visit the silent walls with viewing photos and then conversation with the elders. Our pictures before we flooded in 1979 were all destroyed. Most everyone older than we have died or lost their memory. And the silenced buildings have been destroyed.
ReplyDelete..
Such a poignant travel through time, emotions,and seasons. The house here has been through everything its residents have, of course it is bound to have absorbed some of the feelings. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteYes our memories become housed in the places we’ve lived. This poem is beautiful and creates a perfect nostalgic mood.
ReplyDelete"Everything amalgamated
ReplyDeleteIn the fires of existence."
Wonderful piece!