Soliloquy

For Sahana Satish

Old friendships, for most of the part,
Tug to the strings inside your heart-
The ones untamed yet by love,
Unstung by the stars above,
Unfelt by the mercies of the scars-
The ones we often called as ours
And heal that which may not afflict
The soul of the stricken in each conflict.

Such times, it seems to me, on the whole
Pour balm on my tormented soul.
The embers of the dying past
Revive themselves often unasked.
Greeting such changes seems to me
The riposte to all melancholy.
Yet, the fluttering leaf outside
Stares at me rather misty-eyed.

Unwelcoming, though, it may appear,
There are no hidden emotions here-
Ones that have had their spoils of war
But none that aren’t worth fighting for.
The daisy blooms in the morning light
Just as the heart tries to delight
Itself in the rhythms that nature plays
In illogical, outlandish ways.

The words, as such, have meaning less
Than actions express in such distress.
Old friends, as always, heed the call
To come with goodwill, or not at all.
Such joy that remains in your soul
Abides its place. That evening stroll
Where you took my qualms to be
As they were- moved me incredibly.