Hello! Sharing another poem here. I had composed this for the Rochester Indian Association's proposed literary magazine since so many complain about the Rochester winter :P
A Departing Summer Personified
In the warmth of my days
A cold-blooded illusionist breeds.
Treacherous tulips, fair-weather fragrances,
Conspiring colors, evanescent greenery,
All too fickle for eternal stay.
With ruthless insolence and conceit
A Rochester-ian's longing,
His adoration, his summery fancies
Quickly deflated in shrewd mockery.
Cherish instead those trees
Whose foliage bleeds away colors
As unfettered winds whistle at their death
And yet like modest mortals they await
Being rotten under the white's weight.
Those intricacies of exposed dendrites,
Those 'cotton bolls' - ornaments on pines,
Beautifying the fate of woods stripped naked;
Those loyal birds and steadfast squirrels
Gracing abandoned, unadorned silhouettes,
Ghostly remnants of what used to be their 'home'
And with admirable allegiance, they still call it so!
Every flake that kisses the timeworn streets,
Those patient drops on the tips of stalactites who
But melt many a times faster than the human heart
Yes, cherish them instead.
Even winter has in store songs of mirth
Festive choirs singing X'mas carols
Hot chocolate, warm friendships, cozy cuddles,
The tenderness of grandma's knitting,
A father's frosty windshield, proud
With his toddlers' scribbles on display.
As childhood innocence revisits,
To counsel long-bewildered adults -
Snowmen stand witness,
The passionate grip of trustworthy hands
Reassuring a hesitant, novice skater,
Friends falling on skis, smiling still,
All renew a common promise, which
To a monochromatic wintry canvas, can colors lend -
‘There is more love, learning and loyalty
Amid this icy-blight, than any of my summery days’
What is worse, now think again -
The 'callousness' of a frigid winter's night?
Or the transience of my habituating radiance?
If you remembered - Seasons are Sojourners
These questions could afford oblivion.
Nature's course is evolving,
While yours naively obdurate.
Bear in mind, its beauty is fleeting not!
Only your immutable definitions make it so.
