‘Let me go’... you had said,
and you left...
not a glance- not a regret...
and then the cuckoo left-
and the nightingale and rose-
spring followed,
along with the colours and the fragrance...
the sun lost its light...
the birds were the last to leave;
only the black rook stayed back
nestled in the pine-
we shared the ruins,
and the dark evenings...
the desolate quiet,
brought rain in my eyes...
autumn returned- so did winter and the snow,
and icy winds in summer time...
“Why did she leave?’... I asked the rook one barren night...
“she took away the Time’ ...
“All come to leave” said the rook;
“this world is a tavern of departure...
they, who are here, are not here...
they, who have gone, have not gone...
what you see is nought... what you do not see is nought...
does it matter who is- or who is not?
Tis all a dream in the mind...
seek the Source... that robe of Eternity shall be Thine...
Silence is the path‘...