Flashing with hues of footprints in a rainy forest,
That storms in the white space of my mind!
Not again, I ask myself, what’s a memory?
A river that flows upon the pebbles of the past?
Or a Garden that nourishes my lifeless static?
Yet, in its fleeting dance, every legacy is crafted.

Neither the buzzing bug that flew to hurt me today,
Nor the marching mantis I tried to dodge yesterday,
These flashes are of the taste I had in drops of polio!
And those of the tiny details of paint around my toys.
I wonder, where he stores old bundles of senses?
The teensy librarian, in the tall shelves of my memory!


Cold and dark woods, where my shadows grow deep,
Nightmares enjoy leaving imprints on my memories.
Screeches with grumbling thunder, sought me queries,
My dreams are these often, haunting tales in sleep.
I wonder, why can’t he store bundles of sweeter ones?
Maybe at least then, he found some slumber once.

Drifting into the past, while gazing the dusk terrain,
Those sprinting endless fields move with chugging.
My eyes mirror silly moments on the shiny windowpane,
As a toddler to teen, I’ve made those all my checkpoints.
Where I dive in them to the past and relive them fast,
My train’s a time machine, with rhythmic sway so vast!

The breeze gets heavier, feeling my memories.
Sometimes in sun, it brings me shower and hail.
To walk those places, now eroded with gloom,
Were once I knew, shone brighter than the moon.
Echoes of blissful juvenescence, invokes gratitude,
Visions of bleak adolescence, invokes solitude.

Death is an emotion that embraces our memory,
It’s like a creeping blaze rose that climb upon fear.
A true wealth must be wished, a peaceful cemetery,
Dried petals on tomb hurts us with thorns of love.
Live every sprout, death’s a drought in the hand,
A memory is where you can live forever in the land!