Epiphany
Why is it, that in a world, with a million sights to see, And a time, when there are, a hundred places to be, At a juncture, that has a hundred emotions to feel, That you suddenly turn away, becoming
Why is it, that in a world, with a million sights to see, And a time, when there are, a hundred places to be, At a juncture, that has a hundred emotions to feel, That you suddenly turn away, becoming
Before I knew you, the rivers and streams did not cease to flow, And because you weren’t yet born, neither did the wind forget to blow, When you left, the mountains too didn’t follow, and walk away, And because you
Every one of us has travelled, walked down many a different road, But very few among us remember how, and fewer, why we trode, For most of us, it was simply a linear journey from path to the next, Choosing
How often do you notice the death of a single dream, Seeing the last drop dry up from its parched stream, But you don’t really mind, pronouncing not even a tiny scream, As if having anticipated they were all meant
Unlike the leaves of autumn, that see fit, to fall in only one season, Very unlike the swinging moods of winter, that shift for no reason, Not at all like the hunger of summer, that doesn’t spare even the moon,