By Tarun Sundhar Arumugam
From: Myself, Wanderer
To: You, aka Me, Seeker
Date: To whence your eyes open to the Moonlight
Subject: “Whatever you choose to perceive”
Dear Me,
If they tell your Life awaits you, and ask you to open your eyes,
tell them it had never closed, it was only veiled by the Sun,
tell them you have already lived it, and here but for a perusal.
Enclosing the copy of “To Wanderers and Wayfarers’”:
“A mere nomad of my sanity
I scramble, I scrape, in my own
I wander, I drift, I wonder
Of the pillagers and ran sackers that have flooded my heartland
Smearing the walls, once of wit with Hate and Hollow
And of the Wisteria that have rooted itself onto my skin and soul
Uprooting the Maple’s that grew askew
I search hither and thither of Joy and Kind, my old kin, that reminiscent within
Only to find, the once monarchs as vagabonds in a dire
I wander, I drift, I see
Only when my backyard iris took its leave
As the grey mirror now had an rust and a web
To an Old Me, I no longer recognize
But crave to cherish that me
That knew no “Worldly Love”
That took Death to be an epoch that never gets to tell your tale
That thought stories always end with happy endings
And for that Me,
I do wish to tell,
What so barely I believed to have learned
From my travels, into my own but still quite unknown
I do not have any ploy to help you deceit Life,
As the tethers get hold of you at a point on another,
to let you see what you anyways see, but with eyes that don’t hold the color.
But don’t you worry, by the monochrome in my talk,
the moon will give you light as it does,
And the sun will be there to remind you you’re not dead
And the moments and memories, a coin of two sides, will follow you in life,
Nevertheless, live it, that’s all I have to say to you from my wanderings.