a poem by Pankhuri

One day as I sat in the park,
I felt and heard the silence,
I saw the noise of nature,
Ice- screaming that it was winter.

But once spring was in the air,
I played on soft grass with my feet bare.
With my friends Jack and Tom,
Spring really felt awesome!

Then came summer with rage and fury,
The same heat and intensity I had within me,
I had a burning passion to live as a man of substance,
A man who wanted each one to feel his presence.

Arrived monsoon splashing against my window,
Dampening tip and root of each tree;
It was restless and reckless just like me.

I saw the falling leaves of autumn,
They fell down slowly;
As if trying to tell,
Their example should be followed by me.

This is the winter of my life.
The snow on the trees that are bare,
Resemble my gray hair.
The patterns on the tree barks,
Look like my wrinkles and my old age marks.
This is the end of the seasons:
I cannot give any reasons
This is the way life goes on,
This is the way seasons dawn.
When goes on comes the other,
Well, why should I bother?
Because now I would never see the glorious spring
Or hear lively church bells ring.
I will never have the summer’s rage,
Or see autumn berries coloured beige.
With the dark clouds of monsoon tucked in my eyes,
I walked away on the frozen ice.