Winter Dreams

Fall c. 2016

Life, as I see it, around me, falling.
A fall in Boston, leaves turning yellow,
red, brown, as earth is calling
them. Sky is clear, sun feels mellow.

I step outside, the walls of my cruise,
into the freedom, of boundless universe.
Feeling sunshine, birds flying nous
Anamnesis of old house, bliss and curse.

The dreams with open, eyes old dreams
call me again, again and over again.
Old winter sweven, calls with silent screams,
As I move forward on aimless lane.

The everyday ecstasy, friends and surprises,
Turned Into appetency, as time went by gradually.
Now Left speechless, my aphonia summarizes
My ode to the gone, good old, eventually.

It’s an old lore, that I recite,
Of friends and family, freedom and trust.
Soulful solitary sonnet, a scene in sight,
That I paint, since spirit to crust.

Reminiscences of rhythms those of song
Of birds on the tree, we sat under.
Together, in our city, for which I long,
From roads of India, I got sunder.

I recall the rooms and the benches,
Of the university, I recall the flora,
Thirst for knowledge, for what quenches,
I miss the teachers, lectures and aura.

I’m mesmerized by beauteous past,
A song from far, poignant echo of pine,
Last day that dawned, why didn’t it last?
Euphoria of friendship, of career to shine.

I walk along, unknown breeze all alone,
For no reason, in search of a shrine.
For why have I come, leaving ole known,
With whom I belong, who here is mine?

Consequence of an, envisioned life gone wrong,
Alas! I lost a fight I began myself, win how I could?
Why didn’t I tread traveled paths all along?
An anonymous stranger, myself, I never understood.

These winter dreams, take me back in time.
To the beautiful moments I spent with friends,
Studies, party, games, and more in rhyme,
When we shared tracks, trips and trends.

Aroma of the flowers of Boston alleys I smell
I remember the fragrance of heydays of my soul.
Spring in India, saffron sunrise, how do I tell?
The sense and sane for vanished age they prowl.

My home, my city, those roads did call me back,
Stopped me, wanted me to remain in their care.
For my wishes, desires, conscientiousness I did lack,
And I left, with their blessings and love’s share.

Clean and clear milky blue celestials,
And green streets, blossoming gardens,
Snacks and sweets, films and festivals,
My breaths shall always live in their pardons.

Deepak Bansal (@TheDeepakBansal)