Living
A chance encounter with a word
gave rise to a recessed memory
of a long forgotten smell,
attached to various things hoary.
Thus unearthing an era,
long gone and nullified,
pressed under sheets of experiences
like the fossil of a reptile.
The folded lobes of the mind
contain chapters of lives past.
A smell here, a sound there
are enough to raise their facade.
We are so busy in living
that the beauty of the moment is lost.
Only such triggered visions
make us realize what we tossed.
A life well lived,
or a life lived not?
Copyright © Alok Srivastava | Year Posted 2016
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