ALL THE ANGER IS NOW GONE WHEREVER, WHATEVER LOVE WAS, WENT. THROUGH THE PARTED CURTAINS I LOOK AT MEMORIES OBSCURED BY BRANCHES AND LEAVES CROWDING AND TAPPING THE CLOSED PANES I PUT THE TIPS OF MY FINGERS ON THE GLASS, AND UNTOUCHING STIR THE TENDER LEAVES AND WITHOUT PASSION THE MEMORIES WHICH AWAKE BUT REMAIN UNSEEN, UNFELT IN A MIST SO THICK, SO STILL IT HOLDS MY BREATH SO NEITHER JOY NOR SIGH ESCAPE I CANNOT HEAR THE THROBBING OF MY HEART AND I CANNOT HEAR THE SILENCE OF THE DEAD BATTLES OF MY MIND EYES FAILING TO HEAR, EARS TO SEE AND THE HAND CANNOT HOLD BACK, WIND BLOWN, THE BRANCHES AND THE LEAVES AWAY FROM THE WINDOW, CLEARING BRIEFLY MY VISION I KNEW THEN THAT I WAS NOT MERELY TIRED I KNEW THEN THAT I HAD FINISHED LOVING THAT I HAD FINISHED LIVING |
ramesh gandhi