I Age
I age. The world seems not to fit on to a page.
Each of life’s phases makes it a different drama stage;
With different exits and entries that enrage. But life’s not solid,
It flows into various shapes and moulds,
Nothing is serious, nothing long-lasting –
A blend of serious seeming stuff with comic endings.
Life’s best for fiction. Stories grip for a while and then
Fadeaway into forgotten-land. Fortunate are those
That translate themselves into fiction, with success.
For then at least some small part of them gets told
And growing old is then not just an operation table.
3 Comments
Robin
Though good fiction captures life’s absurdities and mysteries, sometimes poetry says it best. A lovely poem!
lrsharma
Thank you, Robin. It is encouraging coming from you. Yes, I quite agree. There are times when experiences don’t move smoothly on the wheels of prose. One hardly realizes when the other form of expression has got the better of you.
Aaryan Khare
What a beautiful poem!
It looks like I am listening to these words in your voice, sir.