A Charade of Innocence
When light fades into night, one becomes the night,
conversing in silent language, one feigns no fright,
one hums gentle hymns to bring the dark to heaven,
assumes a child’s innocence like bread with leaven.
How alive illusions are when one feels no pain,
leaves rustling in the wind let dreams go down the drain.
But reality pierces memory, forgets
not the face loved in innocence without regrets.
To close one’s eyes from viewing sunsets, reduces
innocence and wonder that nature seduces -
landscapes meshing green on gold when sunlight sparkles-
beauty strengthens the heart to bear hurts it hurdles.
One asks of fate if all these were just mere charade
like crescent puffs of dust blown off in life’s parade -
dancing to the flow of waters in gurgling streams,
mocking facade of innocence, betrayed it seems.
@jjote 011021
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