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That Was Then, This Is Now
That was then….
When the tapestry of contentment enveloped
the enthralled expanse exhilarated,
of the sensuous sky called life.
When the fervent flight was friendly
for the esoteric essence to fly fearless
near and far like a free bird beguiled.
When happiness was convivially contoured
in the consummate cauldron of time present,
relationships extended arms all the way
to embrace with unreserved fervor.
Strangers mingled with smile of no pretense,
kept the dormant egos unexpressed.
When life had the gracious fluidity,
flooding the kinship landscape with candor,
flowed like the fragrant spring zephyr
over the contented topography of being,
touched the ebullient perimeter
of the fulfilled psychic sanctum.
When your onyx cloud of latent tolerance
showered the soothing rains of empathy
on my blazing mental mantle doused,
you enwrapped me within memory petals,
made the bouquet of togetherness
when I was gone from your garden of roses.
This is now…
When deranged life is desolately disjointed,
things that matter to you and me
don’t relate as relevant any more.
The lone journey in the connived course,
fraught with fright is to descry the destiny
in the uncertain horizon of the unknown.
When self-imposed isolation takes the mind
from tentative today to ambiguous tomorrow,
ruptured rapport unholds hands even in sorrow.
In life the solo actors make their own stage,
play the unreal roles in the drama they write,
till the curtain of self-inflicted seclusion drops.
When the impeded flow of time
stalls in the hourglass of verily viscous sands,
sliding in the manipulated tortuous trail,
crashes at the basal indiscrete instincts
of the impatient and imprudent life,
buried in the debris of dismembered dreams.
When compassion morphs into mirage
in the desolate desert of the desiccated life,
where my soul is a snapped string
in the frail fabric of human disharmony.
When I’m gone you instantly erase
my fading face from your contrived canvas.
Copyright ©
Subimal Sinha-Roy
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