On someone dear's suggestion, I am writing one of my blogs as a poem. I am writing about moving on because that is the only constant thing in my life. Changing place, making a new world and moving on; half forgetting the past as some past life, past birth that left half a memory.. sweet bitter; loved despised. But it leaves some questions... what is all of it worth, that I have to leave behind? Why all the investment in a home, in friends when it has to be left behind, when I have to eventually move on? It is a question on life itself. something like what the book of Eclestiastics says- 'Everythng is Meaningless'
MOVING ON
Why work up sand castles,
when the tide will bring it down?
why smile at the sea,
and go on building on?
when nothing lasts time,
there is only the moving on.
Would there stay a joy
'it was best it was tall'?
will there be an ache
'oh! the tide, oh! the fall'?
thinking back or moving on,
what does last through it all?
Does it thrill looking back,
or deep does it grieve?
for time even dims,
beloved memories.
clutching all or moving on?
clawing in on the breeze?
There is joy there is pain
in the stride, in the toss,
of the dreams fulfilled
but left far across.
moving on with a gain,
moving on with a loss.
With a smile full of cheer
on a heart that is worn,
to dreams yet to come
when the day is so gone,
to another world unknown
is forever, the moving on.
