Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Transition


I was strolling along one sunny morn,
Didn’t quite realize when she left me;
I kept walking on,
Not knowing she wasn’t following me.

In this world she would be but a misfit,
For she possessed the caprice of innocence;
Trust always by her side,
When the need of the hour was prudence.

She left as the fairy’s wand transformed me,
Robbed me rudely of my childhood;
Bewildered as I was, nothing could be a greater shock,
Not even the advent of adulthood.

It was only later that I realized,
That this journey through which must pass every human,
Robs humanity a wee bit of its sensitivity,
And the world a wee bit of its conscience.

And that has made all the difference!

3 comments:

  1. Awesome! I don't know why, but the poem reminds me of Wordsworth's 'Tintern Abbey.' I don't want to appreciate the poem critically; but I find many a facet of English poetry in your poems Meghana and this, too, is not an exception.

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  2. Nice one. The last line reminiscent of Robert Frost's line That Has Made All The Difference.

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