By Rungeen Singh

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You just looked at me and like a magnet I was drawn
My heart spontaneously gliding into a lilting song…
Your radiant gleam was an assurance that I could dream
of a promise of pure love, of capturing a fluttering dove
of ecstatic happiness as my future fate...
But alas! As I yearned for your immortal love
your shifty eyes embraced some other lucrative dream,
callously leaving me utterly bereft.....
Loneliness now sat solitary under the tree
Empathizing with a forsaken fallen withered leaf
And it seemed the final end with no beginning
A deadly autumn with no rejuvenating spring
And desolation asphixiated me
in a suffocating breathlessness
As I stood on the thorny threshold
of depression and hopelessness...
But suddenly Nature showed the way and transformed my mind
My eyes saw that amidst the utter destruction
A brave brand new sapling sprang out unaided
ready to make its own destiny.
And sheer bliss replaced
the agony of the debilitating vacuum of loss
and found sustenance of hope and faith
just by lifting an autumn ember and seeing the spring smile beneath.
Symbolic of a new life, beckoning to be nurtured
And my heart realized that birth could blur the sharp pain of death
as light spurs us through darkness
that warmth of love could melt the freezing cold
as youth shoulders the weakness of the old
Shade is the veil protecting from the tawny glaring sunlight
and dawn clears the nocturnal smudges of plight
and a child would be my spine in a selfish world
Where adults were unreliable hypocrites,
an innocent child would give me hope and a purpose to live
The child will give me sustenance even as I give it support,
A sweet child, to care for and feel fulfilling ecstasy
Paving a sure way ( for sometime atleast )
of a life of childlike joy and that will be my destiny
till my child became an adult and learnt hypocrisy…


By Rungeen Singh

Her ancient weary face
seemed a contoured tortured map
of the numerous toiling years
that were dead and past
and she trembled hopelessly
even as her withered eyes
searched for sustenance...
just one promising ray
of making life truly worthwhile...
a single beam that would instil
atleast some lively life in her,
any redeeming factor
of why she still lived when all others
had irrevocably gone
never to return…
She felt that atleast she was living
And she should hold on to life
whatever was remaining
And so hopefully
She wore her old grand jewellery
to hide her thickly folded wrinkles
to try and feel some worth in her useless self
confined as her battered heart was
in her tattered blotched skin…
She searched again but her soul was empty
and her very spirit a yawning vacuum
as the mirror was brutally honest again…
It showed a strange paradox of rich golden velvet tapestry
decorating a crumbling uninhabitable ruin.
And the realisation hit her. She had spent a lifetime
Just hoarding ornaments and forsaking genuine love for material gain
But what use was her lifetime struggle?
The shining ornaments now
looked a veritable farce
on her dull unloved visage.
If only she had not frittered away her chances
If only she could have had an enduring caress,
a healing nearness. A handsome thread binding her
to someone beloved, in loving everlasting togetherness...if only! Alas!

Rungeen Singh has been a writer since 1992 and an English teacher since 1972. She has written English story books and poems for children, short stories, poems and articles for various Magazines & Newspapers. Rungeen is a Life member of Association for Writers and Illustrators for Children. She lives in India. You may write to her at rungeen.singh@gmail.com

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