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An evocative poem of memories by Arun Dash

What ethereal stuff

Are you made of,

My memories?

 

Fancied or real,

Of love or of longing,

Of a laugh or of tears –

Of everything that has

Once created a subtle ripple

On your calm being –

There’s no escape

From your infinite expanse.

 

The rich treasure

That you amass,

Until the end and beyond,

Oft serves as an elixir

To live richer when alive,

To leave happier when we cease! 

Picture design Anumita Roy, Different Truths


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