Winter Is Cold

Books in volumes are still unread; Movies in reams are still unseen; Places in tones are there un-trodden. What, if I miss like one? Resigned. People sought after are left behind; Women won over are comets burnt; Things got with a crush are snake-skin casts. What, if I leave like one? Resigned. Knowledge bought and got went to rust; Skills learnt and stored are mere waste; Goodwill sown and grown were left behind. What, if I skip like one? Resigned. Desires recede; no hunger stays. Value retreats; no regret rests. ‘I count’ tires; depression dies. Obsession-less is blissfulness. With greed at naught, no appeasement; With needs at ebbs, no need to beg; All seem alike, I take no side. Obligation-less is bliss state Once calves bullied; now I dare bulls. Beggars were seers, seers now beggars. Stones then were gods; now gods seem stones. Fear shedding is happiness. Craving for the best, seeking the high And searching for identity Turn puppet plays to my stale eyes. Disillusioned, I am cheerful. Parents are gone; heart’s seasoned. Siblings are left; heart’s hardened. Children have left; heart’s frozen. Detachment assures blissfulness. Leaves in autumn shed without pain; Lives, the leaves, must shed in autumn, When they turn green-less and wet-less. Unshed leaves are unwanted guests. Seasons are to everything; Time is there to everything. Be ready to leave in autumn, By when turn green-less and wet-less. To live in winter Is to pass through hell. 23.03.06