Clueless clutters of life
The saddest hour of a gloomiest day
My happy heart had ever in life known--
The high tide that seemed to come with promise,
And the low, sooner did come all but gone.
They came heralding to my hopeful heart,
Both of them-- the waxing and waning kind,
The waxing kind came clearing all the dirt,
The waning one not too much far behind.
Yet, whatsoever life may to me bring,
Be it sad, glad tidings called joy or gloom,
Not tossed aside in due time if, gets stored,
Needless to clutter my life’s Spartan room.
If happy hearts, hopeful life were to lead,
There has to be room for pleasure and pain,
Nigh like tides, let them both come and recede,
Or else, the life’s no boon, but rather bane.
The saddest of my life’s most poignant hour
Of which my cheerful eyes had ever seen,
It came to furnish a fleeting picture
And vague, it vanished ere I intervene.
My saddest day's most miserable hour
Of which my curious ears had ever heard,
Alas, no lasting impress could bestir,
For, cruel time had all its sound bites blurred.
But what about my mind-borne memories?
They too alas met with similar fate—
In luck, same fate would face all my worries,
Soon or late, both to meet their destined date.
Well done my heart, you’ve made me mighty proud,
Life comes to all, no gloom to inherit,
Let miseries no more mental space crowd,
Sans gravitas, life’s closer to spirit.
________________________
Musings | 04.07.2009 | life, spirit, quatrains
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