The World Ahead

All I can do
Is write a few words
As I see the white moon
Above my head
So far away
Looking down on me

When I think of the blue
In the sky beyond
And I think of the distances
Beyond me and farther
I smile a little
At what there is

It is here for now
This life that I can give
An honest word
With an honest look
This life that will leave
When time decided to stop

And all I can do
Is look back
At what I missed
And what I chose
In this life of mine
I chose to make complete

I forget today
All my deep sorrows
And all my fears
As I stare away
At all that I can't see

I cherish today
For all that it gave me
Which will soon be taken
But it is mine for now

All I can do
Is hope for a breath
And a peaceful thought
When it is given to me
And is given by me

Love me one time

He lived a full life, it was what he had wanted since his brain started working. He said things he meant and he abstained from mindless murmur. He made a few friends and held them dear - but oddly they left him, one after another. But the stock found its way of being replenished. And thus, life went on - it was an adventure each day. It was a normal life lived in a normal way - he found his love, he made her his wife and they lived together until the day she died. And as it goes, the grass was always greener on the other side - marriage was ordinary, but his time with her was beautiful. Each day, for him, was worth a gold coin and more. Each touch was cherished and he remembered forever the first day he saw her. He spoke clearly and never thought of leaving her. There were troubled times and there were fights but he knew he wanted to wake up with her every day. But as is the law of life - one day it left her and when he looked upon that cold body he remembered the day he first saw her and how she looked when she cried with anger; he remembered the time when it was 3 am and he woke up to see her sleeping soundly, he remembered hearing her voice after a gap of a few days. He had lived a life without regret. It amazed him how he could sit with a friend and not think of her, but how he longed for a glimpse of her before leaving home the next day.

He wrote in his diary that I found, that he was a romantic. He never gifted and he was never extraordinary. He was honest and caring. He loved each breath of air that filled his lungs, he loved the smell of his wife's hair, he loved the ability of his senses and he loved the world around him. He cared for a lot of things and it amused him always, how people seemed to be ignorant of all that was gorgeous. He knew things would change - they have a way of doing so - but he never knew it would happen so soon.

He got married when he was 29 and his wife died when he was 35. Of course, it took him with surprise - but what could he do? Bite down hard and be afraid of all that he missed?!
He spoke then on about how people ought to cherish those grand things that are just taken for granted. It got through to many but stayed with very few - he marked how people have a way of just being comfortable with a false sense of security. Oddly, it works well for most. But why did she leave him?!

He lived a full life... he lived alone after her demise and he longed for her touch and her voice.
He lived to 78 and he died peacefully with a few friends around him. They were usually around - some new and some old, but all cared for him even though they found him a tad bit boring.
It amazed him that he couldn't find anybody else - he was open to the idea but he loved her still.
Funny how some people are - hopelessly romantic.
They die alone but they never live alone.

Mischief

Was a cold, tiny hand in mine
It had found its warmth
Was a snake coiled around me
On that dead and gorgeous night.

A small wind blew
And I sensed a change in me
Scary was that forgotten feeling
But if forgotten
How could it be true?

Only time would say
If that beckoning was meant
Or was just a grain of time...
Never to be touched again
Or to be cherished forever
In a chasm deep inside
In the chasm reopened...

Seated

A cloudy day
When I looked at my hands
And I brought them near
I rest my head in them
And thought back at what was
It does not make sense now
How that time passed me by...

Oft have we felt that
Time is evil
And yet it heals
I could smell in my palms
The burden of my life before
And yet
As I stand now
I see that life has changed
And my mind is at rest
Staring time in its stride