after all, what is that which matters

have seen life slipping away
like a sip
of the cup which was not going to stay
i took my tea and could hardly say
is this what we have learned
to be the middle way

Buddha is not my ideal nor sri rama
i am not worried
about what people will say
i want to be with my mother
and wish her a long life
even if it means
some more
moments, from my friends, will go away

after all, what is that which matters
when leaves are shed
and spring i sfar away
you just become quiet
and let memories  hold
a queer sway

2 Replies to “after all, what is that which matters”

  1. you write so well.you frighten me.
    how can people be so perfect in this world.
    It took me full ten days to respond back to your poems.

  2. perfection is not what i seek
    and fear is for those
    who are meek
    we are what we do,
    see, reflect and try to be
    why not then we accept,
    imperfections as our argument
    and assertion as a statement
    bleek
    and suspect
    but having still a scope
    for generating a hope
    who will claim
    what is the aim
    of being so, as u suggest
    without embelishments
    of eroded vanity
    and persuasive embankments

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