Cross Roads

This poem is about something that was dear but lost.. I hope you enjoy it.

Cross Roads

That’s where I’m stuck at,

One road I traveled from

The other my destiny followed

Now at Crossroads

 

Cross Roads

Decision time

One Road leading to life

The other to death,

The Past is past,

No turning back.

The future unknown

At Cross Roads

 

How do you live without life?

The Promise of Togetherness

Of Joyful days and serene dreams.

Life,

Every breath a whisper of days to come

Every hush a scream of days passed.

To hear the first song of Spring,

To Gaze unto the unyielding waves.

To feel the silence of the heartbeats

And cry out to the calm

 

The Path of life I chose

Yet, Life walked away from me,

I ran, blistered and weary,

Yet the mist of my tears blinded me,

Tired, I stretched my hands to Life,

Whispering, “With you, I am complete,

Without you, I am none”. Stumbling

Still life was lifeless, so alive and cold.

The beauty of living and everything in it

Would not be mine this lifetime

My path would not be as Life’s

 

How do you live with Death?

Falsities abound

Or plain salted truth?

No promise here, just bitter thoughts.

No life for bargain or rent here.

No smelling the first flower of summer,

Nor feeling the first monsoon rains.

So Cold and so Dark, so-so alone

No reasons, no replies, no hope.

 

So I chose the path of Death,

With my fingers crossed,

A heavy heart on my shoulders,

A wry smile on my heavy heart,

I took a leaden foot unto the obscure,

Walking through Death,

The path was wide,

So many others have trodden before me

My stumbles only seemed to lead me on,

On until I thought I saw a faint light.

A hand grasp mine

And beams of life embraced me again.

After the Cross Roads.

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Love - life, rejection - death, just trying out different colloraries.

Reviews

[Touché Armada]

May I just leave this?

I have been there too, where everything became condensed and submerged in a font filled with all the tears of yesterday, that christened so many new beginnings, and the sun shone upon it, and I stared till my retinas began to burn and my head hurt and I frowned forcing me to squint, to continue the sad assessment. Until it became multiple starry beams, paths branching out, further and further the harder I squinted to see. Until it all becomes a dark algae of shadow, something menacing, something harmful. Sometimes when its gets cold and the clouds are dark and steel grey, and the place that I stand before in my centre stops blinding me, it transforms to a bird bath (my like the one my grandmother had, surrounded by well trimmed ivy round and neat) the empty space is a winter garden, the muddy algae becomes bright and emerald, soft and mossy, and the shivers don't know which way to go in the cool air, so they run up and down and collide like waves throwing little hairs on end. And I notice that even in the freezing cold such fragile creatures like little birds, still splash in the bird bath, they dip and flutter just the same as they do in summer. Because they just want to revel whether warm or cold, so long as their songs are all singing they revel. No matter what path you happen to take at those cross roads, you can be sure that sooner or later there will be someone else on that same path, most likely not seeing a great deal due to the muddy algae contrast all around, but as soon as the conditions are right, the light will change, and if you happen to be in close proximity you will most likely hear them sing out in wonder like a bird in the morning ready to revel in the bath dipping and fluttering and just generally going on with the flow of life with the death of every season, it still flows.

Life is like that, a whole bunch of seasons stacked against each other, flowing from one to the next