The Homecoming…

Borgward Hansa, Isolated, Oldtimer, Scrap Car, Scrap
Art Tower@pixabay.com

The rusty hinges of the door creak a melancholia of emptiness

abandoned, a veiled gossamer of neglect envelopes it.

Ambivalent emotions embrace me in nostalgia,

I close my eyes, inhale the smattering scents of yesteryears

fragments of my childhood, resplendent with love and laughter fill me.

Fun filled times with playmates in the cart

wheel across the courtyard, echoing merriment,  

driving through the narrow alleys, the many outings in the old car were so cherished

the ambrosial culinary delights from mom’s kitchen permeated my senses.

Itinerant lifestyle, kept me away for good,

night, seemed too dark for the family in waiting.

The once familiar surroundings, today seem distant

walls of my home, do not recognize me anymore.

The people have all gone, only memories linger on

Eugi’s weekly prompt : Smattering

dVerse poets

A – Autumn Leaves

Oliver Hinh@unsplash.com

A to Z Challenge 2022 – Nature and I

I am sure you all have been enamored by the beauty of the vibrant autumn leaves. The crisp ochre, bright crimson and the mellow yellow paint the landscape with captivating allure. Their colorful charisma beguiles the heart. Poets and artists unleash their creative repertoire, with impressive and befitting odes to autumn.

When everything is a picture of perfection, why do the autumn leaves fall from the trees, in absolute surrender? Deep rooted, with their vulnerability branching out, the leaves sway to their heart’s content, before gently cascading to the earthy bosom in an eternal slumber. They accept the law of the universe with non-resistance, for they believe in it with absolute faith.

Of late, a lot of questions are churning within me as to the greater purpose of life. I am in pursuit of finding the answers to at least a few of them, if not all. 

Like the autumnal leaves, I need to unlearn my preconceived ideas and beliefs, to make space for newer and meaningful learnings of life. I need to let go, of all the emotional baggage and scarred feelings that I harbor in the deep crevices of my heart.  I cannot fill my cup of learning, if it is filled up to the brim with hollow notions and superficial happiness.

“Sorrow prepares you for joy. It sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh green leaves can grow in their place.”  Rumi

In every change from within, akin to each falling leaf, there is a pain that I let go, to make room for conducive growth of new tender green leaves of life.

The Unending Wait…

Image credit; LuizClas@ Pexels

Dusk paints the horizon with amethyst hues

 chirpy birds flock back to their nests.

In anticipation, I scamper to the fields

to peer across the setting sun,

drenched in impassioned hope

 to see my father’s silhouette walking back,

from the war.

 I dream of him all the time

 lifting me up, in his strong arms,

tickle my funny bone,

regale me with his stories of valor.

But like every other evening, I walk back alone,

distraught.

 I imprison my tears beneath the disguise of fortitude,

so that my defeated eyes never let them out.

People say I am the daughter of a brave soldier!

Sadje’s WDYS #116

The Flame!

Image credit; Being. the. traveler@ Pexels

When tenebrous coverlet overwhelms life,

a tiny flame kindles a warm glow.

Twirling and dancing in a mystic trance,

its smile negates all darkness.

A minute flicker, spurs a susurration of hope,

burning yet giving,

radiating light to all who seek,

 a beacon to the lost soul.

Tweaked an old poem of mine for Sadje’s WDYS prompt #114

Unmoored…

Ballerina, Vintage, Ballet, Girl, Dancer, Tutu
pgbsimon@pixaby.com

An old sepia toned picture kindled wistful memories

of the bygone days.

 I was the diva of rhythmic prowess,

tiptoeing my way on to the stage.

Full of nimble balletic grace,

pirouetting with poise, to the musical cadence.

I was crowned the

Dancing Queen

to a thunderous applause.

Today, my passion for dance has drifted into oblivion,

as I strive to prove myself in the rat race.

It sadly rests in peace

buried under the busyness of life,

in a dark corner of my soul!

 Thank you Lillian for hosting Poetics at dVerse. This week’s prompt is to use one line from Dancing Queen , a composition by ABBA. I’ve used : Dancing Queen.

Graceful Acceptance!

Image credit; Photomix company @ Pixabay

Now, at the fag end of life,

home alone, in an empty nest,

I wrestle with my waning memory, fogged under

receding hairline and furrowed brow.

Misplacing things, is a daily affair,

forgetfulness, my constant companion.

Simple tasks seem daunting,

what I did in a jiffy, now takes ages.

Today, the mirror reflects my withered shell,

but beneath it, I am still a beautiful soul.

As I glance back at the rear view mirror of life,

I have realized that, it is futile confronting the loss of youth.

In graceful acceptance of old age, with all its quirkiness,

lies the key to happiness!

Sadje’s WDYS #108

The Diagnosis!

Image credit; Gennaro Leonardi @ Pixabay

The diagnosis, screeched their busy schedules to a grinding halt,

causing a major upheaval, it cast a somber shadow of gloom.

Allaying their fears, they emerged from the shocking daze,

draped their pain with a tapestry of mental resilience.

Chucking their jobs, they filled their bucket list with wishes unlimited,

 set out to live the handful of remaining life, fulfilling each of them.

They traveled far and wide, discovered new facets about each other,

laughed to their hearts content, indulged in childish pranks.

In a battle against time, they walked down the reminiscent boulevard,

energizing their grieving hearts with gracious gratitude.

Savoring every moment together, they lived life to the fullest,

creating beautiful memories, before death would do them apart.

Sadje’s WDYS prompt

Abstract of Memories!

silhouette of woman during sunset
Mariam Soliman@unsplash

I walk down the nostalgic boulevard of memories.

As fading sunlight lingers across the horizon,

vintage sepia toned to vivid vibrancy,

my repertoire of reminisces,

paints a mélange of emotions.

Portrays an abstract of my life gone by

before waning under the dusky veil.

Quadrille #136 (44 words)

Written for dVerse. Today’s host Linda says: The word today is Linger or any form thereof.

Random Musings – Bouquet!

Eugi’s weekly prompt : Bouquet

A journey from bud to blossom

and finally, to a wilted eternal slumber,

mirrors man’s story on this planet.

Whether we choose to lament about the prickly thorns

Or admire the fragrant beauty of the blooms,

The choice is ours.

After all, Life is a bouquet of experiences!

As the final curtain drops…

Ladybug, Leaves, Foliage Leaf, Insect, Beetle, Nature
pixabay.com

Seasonal transition follows nature’s rhythm.

Once full of supple verdurousness  

today, I mirror a dull ochre expression.

Diluted veins sap my strength,

 I am blown away by the gust of wind,

my withered soul drifts away from home.

I twirl to the rhythmic breeze, explore faraway places,

at times crushed beneath the hurried feet.

I hold no grudges.

Graceful surrender and acceptance, fills me with peace.

Nature’s lullabies cajole me to deep slumber

 into mother earth’s welcoming bosom..

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