It’s a quiet November afternoon,
And I sit by the window
Soaking the winter Sun;
I see these dry leaves flying,
And my thoughts flying with them,
Forgetting about things that are still undone!

I wonder about this place where I sit,
About the mountains and far beyond as much as I can see;
These places have footprints of the present and it’ll all be different down the lane,
It will be the same place with different footprints that we can’t foresee!

I think about the people & feelings that I have lost to the time, distance and death,
And I wonder how some of their smells, voices & touch are still safe in my heart;
How it all will be alive for me until I take my last breath!

I often wonder, how often you & I,
Like the rest of the exodus of this rat race,
Run, run and run
To win this race,
Forgetting the fact that no matter how much you control and plan it,
This life is running faster than your pace!

The sun has finally set and I left this corner of the window where I usually sit for too long,
As I see the darkness hovering over it,
I know it will go away because for sure there will be dawn!
Sooner or later, someone else will sit in this space,
So now I don’t call it my own,
Now I know for a fact that this is not a place where I belong;
It will always be the “Now” that I can own!

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