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A CONVERSATION WITH THE ZEROETH DIMENSION

                                               (1)

It used to happen around this time of the year.
A friend’s shadow peeped into my room.
It kissed my diaries, played with my pens,
Danced upon my desk…
as if to remind me of his camaraderie with them.
as if to assure me---
”The winters past, life is here to stay”

The chiaroscuro of broken shadows
and the sun filtering through its leaves
silently sat through whatever I had to say.
Scribblings of my would-be-poems;
secrets and distorted thoughts
childish whims that crossed my mind…
…he heard it all.
 But what he heard the most
were my fears--
Fears, which needed no solution.
Fears, which had no solutions.
But Fears that needed to be spoken to. 

If there were those nights of dark and murky fears,
there were sunny days too.
There was a day when I first fell in love.
And to make my friend a part of my happiness
I tied a red ribbon around its lowest branch…
 

                                                     (2)

This time the winters’ past.
The window remains unopened,
unable to garner the courage to face the truth,
”The winters’ past and life has gone away”

But today was one of those dark cloud days
when you wish, somebody could just hear you’re your fears.

Yet, say nothing.

The nothingness of silence
meandering through darkness,
sublime and assuring,
uncavilous and so like him.
With shaking hands, I threw open the window.
The emptiness of his branches
against the pale blue mute sky
struck like a pang of separation.

Lost friend, lost secrets and a thousand moments of togetherness.

Years of memories put together
came rushing by----
fighting to enter my mind,
as pictures, that weren’t vivid with clarity
but with emotions that had no words.

                                     (3)

But then and exactly then, it caught my eye.
A faded ribbon on one of its branches
fluttering in the wind….like the remnants of a long lost love.

A friend, although dead, never ceases to be a friend------

He clings to your memories like he was almost alive.
He listens to you like he would almost reply.
My secrets went with him to the other life,
to be interred till eternity…

The filemot bark, unwavered by the dance of death,
stood like a survivor.
Whoever said, You lost to death?
”The winters’ past, life is here to stay.”
and even beyond death, a Friend never goes away…


…and then I stood there in the soothing evening light
imparting my fears to the empty branches..


---------------------------------------####-----------------------------------------

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