The Last Wind
A detached fawn leaf of the fall
rustles on ruined garden’s windy pathway
like my shriveled life scrambling in the squall
that sweeps the shards away
piling up in debris at the edge of my time.
Disintegrated to desolate dust
with hope crushed like the dry leaf
I see my dreams dwindle in twilight dregs.
From the threshold of destiny
under the sensuous sunburst sky
my longing life once promised me
to take me across the ocean of hope
to the realm of reared dreams where
after the twilight hours I’ll glitter
in the glorious glow of the shimmering stars.
The fleeting life hasn’t kept its promise yet
for the sands of my time lie in the ruins of fallen sky
before I could find a niche in the promised precinct
the spent sun has begun to sink.
Suffused with the fading sparkle of the halcyon horizon
I now wait for the last gust of the winsome wind
to blow in my life’s lonesome landscape
so I can rise from the dust.
____________
July 31, 2021
Brian Strand's contest A Strand (1045)
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2021
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