By Soumya Bandhu
I think us humans are the containers of the circumstances that constantly condition us
The scenarios, the behaviors, the patterns
That we sighted, discovered and were disappointed by
All of it wrapped in a fizzy blanket
Trying to live a life that we either just like or survive
The good and evil placed perfectly between our eyes
A world so grey that I can’t see the colors anymore
The trees stand stoic, watching the world pass them by
The eyes that once gazed at the greats
Now looking at me, a mere mortal
With limited time and unlimited zest for life
A will to see the colors through this blinding blaze
A lingering likeness for life
Not Death, Not anymore
A soul filled with gusto for action
A will of wishes to grant nothing but satisfaction
As once upon an older moon, I thought
That money is everything
But this is far from the truth
Money is something but not everything
As even those who sit in palaces
With their silver and golden chalices
Long for something more like grit or challenges
With every new daunting dawning day
I can’t help but feel the beauty around me
Like the warmth brought forth by the sun on a spring day
Frozen freckles falling on my cheeks
The soul-rejuvenating summer sun
Golden leaves signaling the darker days to come
The pink purple haze before the dawn
The white tipped canopy’s warmth
And yet on those harsh cruel winter days,
I feel better when the Sun comes out
As without the dark, you can’t appreciate the light
No Shiva without his might