Everyone and everything is a story
Not allegories, but stories
Stories of joy, stories of pain
Stories of losses and of gain
Each day, a new leaf to turn over
Of beginnings and of closures
We look to create our own tale
Like those never ending rails
One fine morn, I had the writer’s block
Out of ideas, nothing to concoct
I sat idle gazing at the horizon beyond
Waiting for the pen and my imagination to yet again bond
And there I saw, a puppy running brisk
Away from this world’s complexities and its tryst
And on it ran towards the end of the road
Into the comfort of its mother’s cote
Their love makes me believe
Believe in a happy life full of joy
Far from sorrows I now relieve
And one I’ll always enjoy
Near the pup, I see an elderly man on a rickshaw
Toiling for his hard earned bread every day
And as he fits into this life’s jigsaw
The complexities of existence eludes me, I say
For he is at an age to finally rest his soul
The time to relax and marvel at the life he’s lived
And yet, on and on he toils still for the day’s goal
Isn’t this so torn and ripped?
Curious for my soul is, I walk towards him
“You are so old, and yet you work
At an age where you have lost all your dirth
Don’t you have someone to take care of you
A son or a nephew?”
With a wry smile on his wrinkled face, he says,
“Son, my family went astray when I sent my son to work away
In some land far away
He sent us money whenever he could
Until one day, his soul was stay put.
Fire took my son, my life.
And in his breath resided my wife’s
When she heard of his sudden demise
Her eyes couldn’t muster to cry
A week later, the mother of my child
Bids me adieu, bids me goodbye
And here I am, in solitude
Living the little life I have in quietude
And then one day, I find this job
Of dropping children from their home to schools
In their giggle and in their sob
My heart rejoices for time minuscule
In their eyes, I search for my son,
And in their mother’s caress, my wife
Thus is my existence, always on the run
Run until the end of my life”
I stand there, appalled
In awe of this man’s strength
Under the sun burning like scald
With emotions ever so intense
I run inside to gather some stuff
Clothes, brand new, cash, and some food
For I never could fathom life to be this tough
And that I can also do something good
As I give him all this kind,
He is reluctant at first, and then his eyes swell
Swell with tears of love and happiness combined
Ink to life’s ultimate quill
That man, now long gone
Is one of those few born
With all my worldly possessions, have made me feel torn
Torn by true happiness that they adorn
As I sit here, with my writer’s block
Out of ideas, nothing to concoct
I feel like my emotions, unlocked
For, graceful water can also tear down a rock
TOS
Also on my Wordpress Blog: https://theoccasionalscribbler.wordpress.com/2017/06/15/of-beginnings-and-closures/
This is beautiful.