Ten Years

When it came to the millenium
I thought I've done fifty
Can't go deep into the brave new world of the 21st century
Myself
At least without harking back to past times
Stuck in my groove
Not growing anymore
Putting snow on the roof
Not growing anymore
Losing
Will
Losing
People
Progeny
Love
Lust
Losing health
It didn't quite turn out that way in all its aspects-

At sixty within touching distance sixty
I can masquerade for fifty
Even forty five!
I still have purpose and point
Despite the hole in my heart
Where a loved one used to be
A loved one I would have much rather
Been here in my place
Beating up the copper of life's plate
Fashioning beauty
And character
In youth and vibrancy
Cursing the fates
For desires denied
But yet hoped for

Instead
The last memory I have of the physical being
Is ashes

Of the remembered human
A telescope of parabolic emotions and images
And fragments of words and glances
Detritus of a life truncated
And pictures, many pictures like omens
A intuited perhaps-
About the here and now
Elysian fields, dog barking in happiness
Flowers
And oddly, jokes
Laughter
The lightness of a soul
Who can see the past and
Choose a future...

I can only think I am what I am today
Because she blessed me
And eased my pain.

Gautam Mukherjee