Perhaps life is a different dimension,
Where each stride is growth,
Each stride could be decadence,
It all depends on the road one chose.
In every fork, turn or halt,
There arise questions unasked,
And one is left puzzled,
Until, answers arrive, at last.
We are, then not what we were,
Just a moment ago,
Even one discovery changes,
Our countenance and our very core.
May be we start looking at a baby’s smile,
Its laughter or its wail,
Every appearance becomes an enigma,
Everywhere do we hear life’s tale.
Told, and retold, yet every time,
Doesn’t there seem to be a difference?
As we come to its end,
We realize, maybe we’ve just commenced.
Trees begin to speak,
The sky begins to grin,
And we, like gypsies,
Continue to face the rim,
The very rim of life,
Cornered with queries,
Maintained by the will to live,
To live and defy the breeze,
The breeze of continual happenings,
And learn to walk across its current,
And see answered all that we put forth,
Upon discovering life, we’re bent.
Perhaps horizons begin to lose identity,
And mysteries aren’t left concealed,
And all we thought was insane,
Begins to come under the shield,
Of Reason and Truth,
Of Actuality and Verity,
Of the Wheel of Time,
And the way of Mortality.
When roses blossom,
Freshened up are surroundings,
And when the inner being awakes,
Does life actually begin,
Ending lull and silence of unexplored trauma,
And routine of monotony.
Feeling this wave of sudden awakening,
And attempting to read the meaning of it all,
Trying to decipher the hues of existence,
I know the answers shall come as soon as I call.