रविवार, 6 नवंबर 2011

Tell me leaves .

Leaves , did you have this inkling ,
when young and soft and tender 
you bloomed in the branches ,
that some day this very wind 
which ripples with your laughter ,
will carry you to some unknown land .

Leaves , did you smile 
thinking of the red hues of autumn skies ?
Or shuddered ,
at the thought of the shortening days , 
and the trees bereft of you .

Have you ever pondered 
that in your legacy,
you won't even leave 
speck of your shadow behind !
And the autumn chill will wipe away 
all the traces of your gentle soft murmur .

And now ,
when you are smouldering red ,
yellow and gold ;
when you are leaving all that behind
to which you clinged desperately ,
when you are embarking in a new journey 
on the wings of autumn ,
tell me leaves ,
do you feel a pang ? 
Or is it Freedom ?

                     meeta .

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