by Atul Chandra Sarkar
I lost my mother more than two decades ago. Today on her birthday, I spontaneously composed this poem. It’s not just for my parents, its for all those who love someone dearly.
The album wears,
The photos fade,
Memories bloom,
In sorrow’s shade.
Birds of words,
Chirp in mind,
But beloved faces,
We cannot find.
They came, touched,
They quietly left,
Planting hope,
In hearts bereft.
Surely, we’ll meet,
So why be tense?
None can forever be,
A lost past-tense.
Days are numbered,
For each and all,
Green must replace,
The autumn fall.
So let days pass,
In joys immense,
“We shall meet!’
Is future tense.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Double Post Graduate in Philosophy and Sociology and LLB degree-holder, a Gold Medalist from Canning College, University of Lucknow, U.P. India. Presently engaged as Advisor (Industrial Relations) and Public Information Officer (Corporate) at Uttar Pradesh Rajya Vidyut Utpadan Nigam Ltd., Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh, India and is a Guest Faculty at Electricity Training Institute, Sarojini Nagar, Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh on the Right to Information Act, 2005. An Advocate registered with the Bar Council. Articles, poems and short stories have been published in popular National dailies like Pioneer, Northern India Patrika, Times of India, Campus Verse, Shaktivani, etc. A Blogger at Times of India's speakingtree and having a flair for oil painting. A democratic, liberal and humanist to the core.
Last updated September 15, 2015