A poignant poem, by Subramanian, about aging gracefully, exclusively for Different Truths.
Ease into the evening of life, a time honoured idiom; Grey hairs alone do not uncover the valley of wisdom. As your bones feel the tremors, you inch away from the whirlpool of emotions; Doesn’t the world change faster than the batting of a lid? You are a cloud of the Past, shrinking in memory as time ticks by; Soon the cloud is gone! The new generation, on a tenuous toehold, speaks a language that waltzes over mind; A bridge-wide gap or a mouse trap? You have reached a stellar stage when what happens is only a happening; It may anger or please but is only a passing of breath, no more. Growing old is refining the gild of memory.
Visual by Different Truths
K.S. Subramanian has published two volumes of poetry titled Ragpickers and Treading on Gnarled Sand through the Writers Workshop, Kolkata, India. His poem ‘Dreams’ won the cash award in Asian Age, a daily published from New Delhi. He has been featured in MuseIndia. His poems and short stories have also appeared in magazines, anthologies and web sites run at home and abroad. He is a retd. Senior Asst. Editor from The Hindu, India.





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