A Sonnet on Life

That’s it and no more.

A full stop after numerous commas and semi colons,

And at times an aside (connected, yet apart)

Enclosed in a parentheses,

And somewhere then a new sentence begins;

Running at times into a paragraph, a page or even a novel,

Marked in its turn, with its own commas and semi colons,

Till it ends with its own full stop.

People, incidents and episodes -

Sentences woven together in the book of life;

At times adding value to the other,

Or at least needed to make sense,

Of what has gone before and what comes after,

Insignificant, yet defining, how valuable the book would be.

Words are all that I have left now...

The disarray of things scattered around the house

Complemented by conflicting thoughts and unlikely actions

That merely occupy time, but don't soothe

An ironic awareness of her greatness

That even the mere thought of her absence, in an undefined tomorrow

Floods today with tears, in anyone who hears the news

Fortunate to be groomed by her, my only hope

That I can replicate at least a fraction of her nature

Imbibed through nurture, osmosis or imitation

So that some day, when my time comes

Tears in the eyes and a real sense of loss

Would serve as my companions

In my journey to the other world 

MEMORIES

Memories like all else need regular de-cluttering

Accumulated over time, sometimes by default

At others by oversight or laziness (that prevents immediate disposal),

They keep gathering, intertwining and mixing haphazardly,

Till you cannot distinguish the good from the bad,

And what really transpired from what one chooses to remember

Or even the shades that the passage of time and the clutter lends them.

The most precious inheritance, they lose their value

And serve neither as solace for an enticing today,

Nor as lessons for a better tomorrow.

Collected in various forms as thoughts, statements and messages

They tend to lie ignored, gathering dust;

Or remain irretrievable, as their presence is forgotten.

As often as possible, I carefully choose them

Letting go those of that hurt and holding closer to the heart those that matter

To complete the jigsaw of living, filled with the rich text of experience

And the vibrant hues that life has to offer.

Preeti Shirodkar