OFTEN I RECOLLECT

Wrapped in the lean blanket of old age

I lay cuddled in a room, that’s my cage;

Outside, the season of winter entices,

But inside, the fear of solitude encloses.

The diary under my pillow is my companion

My sequences of life, it reflects when I open,

I regain some confidence whenever I open,

But often I recollect of what I had once written:-

“How fast the days and years disappear

How fast the advancing age appears;

And, by the time one realizes this fact,

The sheen of real bliss seems already lost.

 

Yes! Caught in the bondage of relationships

We ignore the bond of God’s stewardship;

In the darkness of ignorance, we search ways

What else can we find, except the elusive joys”.

Perhaps what I jot during this winter season

May enlighten more with a new poetic fusion,

The diary is my companion in all the seasons,

But the pages of winter are unique by all means.