Where does my caravan tread along,
Leaving behind a lonely trail,
I couldn’t hold on to those with me,
Where did I falter, where did I fail?
The carts of love, the wheels of blood,
Severed by the flow and passage of time,
The eyes that beheld, the hands that held,
During life's spring, during the prime.
Lost, I look back at the dusty trail,
Staring into the dust for a while,
The moments of laughter bring a tear,
The petty quarrels cause a teary smile.
To be completed….
Each moment that passes is a loss...life in the end is a loss of time but definitely a gain of many treasures like this lovely poem of yours. Beautiful poem....
ReplyDeleteThank you Sunita, nice to have such good words from such a good poet.
ReplyDeleteAw fabulous it is......
ReplyDeleteWhere does my caravan tread along,
Leaving behind a lonely trail,
I couldn’t hold on to those with me,
Where did I falter, where did I fail?
Lovely lines.
The poem is graced with your words Sudam. Thank you
Delete