An evocative poem of memories by Arun Dash
What ethereal stuff
Are you made of,
My memories?
Fancied or real,
Of love or of longing,
Of a laugh or of tears –
Of everything that has
Once created a subtle ripple
On your calm being –
There’s no escape
From your infinite expanse.
The rich treasure
That you amass,
Until the end and beyond,
Oft serves as an elixir
To live richer when alive,
To leave happier when we cease!
Picture design Anumita Roy, Different Truths
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