Cruising Along To a Distant Shore

(c) Manchester City Galleries; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation


I tell them I’ve got a story to tell,
And they listen with clogged ears,
Stuck on their own theories.
Feeling the terrible urgency of ageing,
A foreboding;
A sense of something,
Left unaccomplished,
Keeps constantly clawing at my thoughts,
When I should be enjoying,
What life I have been left.


It’s a cautioning;
There isn’t time allotted for me to find
An answer, to seek fulfilment.
Changing times drives me to a point
Where belligerence is natural.
Man…!! What has he done with
His life to merit my existence?
To warrant another sunrise?
Another soft rainfall?
Such questions go without an answer.


A curtain of impatience descends.
Emotional Intensity,
Looms larger today.
An urgency for completion,
Comes intensely into play.
My integrity is crossed, intentions are criticized
And cohesiveness is lost.
Cruising along the banks;
Flowing with rapid urgency;
Time shall never be still for me.


Sweeping everything away that comes my way,
I move towards a distant shore
Finding a resting place;
A distant shore.
It’s too late for stories now.
Too late for confessions.
I’m only a rushing river
That had a story to tell. I hope,
Someday when you have a story to tell,
Someone will listen. Really listen.


© All Rights Reserved.
©Ranjeeta Nath Ghai,  atrangizindagieksafar, 2016.

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