Poems by Meera Shanmugam

Passing Moments

a poem by Meera Shanmugam

If I could live forever, I wouldn’t,
Not that there is no ‘If I could’, there is only a couldn’t,
Life is a beautiful experience,
That is beautiful because it is filled with passing moments.

Life is a beautiful experience,
With bad ones that sometimes come in between,
These bad ones aren’t that bad when you realize,
That they show us how beautiful the good ones are.

Life seems to be bitter and lost,
When things go wrong and memories turn sour,
Life wouldn’t be beautiful if everything was right,
With nothing to guide us, without an insight.

The beauty of life lies in the fact,
That it is filled with passing moments,
Moments that turn into memories,
Memories that remain as a tribute to those passing moments.

We cherish the moments of the past,
We cherish the memories of people we knew from near or from far,
People who may never have known of our existence,
Yet, have in some way made the difference.

The beauty of life is that,
We can only say I lived. or I live.
We can never say I will live.
Without a doubt or a hesitation, in the indicative.

Life itself wouldn’t be called life,
If there was no death to negate it,
We wouldn’t understand the joy of living,
If there was no sorrow to depict it.

The beauty of death is that,
It makes us realize the beauty of life itself,
It is this mortality, that makes us seek the immortal,
Not of the form, only of the spirit.

The passing moments pass by,
Only the memories seem to linger on,
It is these memories that make us realize,
That a moment gone, is forever gone.

The moments passed by belong to the past,
Their only reminder is the memories that last,
It is this realization that seeks in us the need to make a difference,
A difference that would make us immortal,
When life itself, as a memoir becomes a moment of the past.

Death: A Mystery

a poem by Meera Shanmugam

Death, thy remains a mystery to me,
Wherever I go, thee I see,
On the roads to give solace to the down trodden,
And in the skies to those who wish for science to broaden,
Are you a sadist?
Are you a murderer?
Are you a sacrificer? Or,
Are you a soul gatherer?
What pleasure do you get taking away ones so dear?
Remind us of your presence and fill us with fear,
A fear that tomorrow will bring about another loss,
A loss without reason, one for which we will never know the cause.
A cause, which if exists we cannot accept,
A cause that demands a person to be condemned to death.
The cause could not have been executed only by the will of the soul,
Even the body would have played at least an inkling role,
Why then do you leave behind the flesh and blood?
Without the spirit that we had loved.