An illusion named Time

One that cannot be purchased,
Neither saved nor spent,
Cannot be owned nor enslaved,
Cannot be donated,
Nor received as gift,
What difference does it make,
On or in our hands,
An illusion
We think we have,
We measure and be precise,
We boast and we prance,
How much we saved or spent,
And then boom,
It stands still,
Eternity embraces,
Fragments of fossilized bones
Tell stories of
End of an illusion.

In silence they came

In silence they came,

Slowly,

One by one,

Trickling in,but 

In a steady stream,

Then the dam burst,

And they rushed in;

A torrent, a deluge,

How to make sense,

Of everything jumbled up.

Nudged me gently,

And then dragged me

From my slumber;

Swiftly I drew,

As my fingers flew,

From the madness emerged

An illusion

An apparition,

A celestial dance; 

Music unspoken

Lulled me,

As I dozed,

And surrenderered to her arms;

Silently they left,

One by one;

She slipped away,

Leaving me with a memory

Etched in my heart.

Now where shall I find

The words,

To paint my masterpiece,

She still dancing

In my mind,

My muse eternal.

Why I Write:Week Twenty Nine of My Fifty Two Weeks Journey with the Letter ” W”

Of late I have questioned myself why do I write. I have seen a few other bloggers asking similar question. I first started writing when I was in high school, in my ninth and tenth grades.  Then for long time, except writing class notes and exams and occasional letters ( yes, we used to write letters by hand) to family members, I did not write anything else. All those applications and resumes for job interviews do not count.  I did not even write a single letter to the editor of the local newspapers.  Oh, that other kind of letters that some of us used to write in fancy pink papers in their youth, I never had the good fortune to write any of those.

What motivated me to write after a long hiatus, I cannot exactly pin point. Most probably the urge was always there, dormant. Once I started, I am finding it difficult to stop.  Technology helped.  The ability to access WordPress and Evernote apps on mobile phones definitely helped. It still does not explain why do I write.  Certainly it is not for fame, nor for money.  I have no illusion that I am going to earn any from my writing. So why do I write?

I think writing gives me a freedom that I have not experienced before.  It has given me a freedom to express myself without shouting, without disturbing others.  Words and ideas that normally would have been fermenting inside now have a medium to express themselves freely.  Online blogger friends that I have made are icing on the cake. If my writing makes even one person smile a day, I feel myself fortunate. What more can I ask.

So for today, on week twenty nine of my fifty two weeks journey with the letter “W”, I dedicate my poem to “Writing”.  Dear readers, I hope you would be able to figure out from the poem why I write.


This post is in response to Write Anything Wednesday-Aug-17-2016 sponsored by Writerish Ramblings

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