Sunday Blues

The last time I visited this place, was fourteen years ago, almost to the date. Standing here by the edge of the river again, nothing seems to have changed. The trees, the rocks, the water, even the shrubs, they all look the same. The sound of running water and the wind rustling the leaves. The chill of the autumn air on a clear Sunday afternoon. The spruces standing guard along the far side of the river. It all seems exactly how it was, all those years ago, just like yesterday.

Fourteen long years of my life. So much has happened, and so many things have changed. Relocations domestic and abroad, children growing up, me getting older. Sadness, happiness, and sadness. High ambitions, hard work, and lucky accomplishments. Battles fought and victories celebrated. Disappointments small and big. Contentment, and realizations of the realities of life. Some people leaving, some entering, and then leaving again. Increasing distances between hearts as well as minds. Long awaited hellos, and sad goodbyes across vast oceans and layers upon layers of space and time.

It is strange, almost unreal, to think that fourteen years have passed. For me, it feels like a lifetime. For the river, it must be like the time it takes a tear to roll down a cheek. For the wind, a whisper in its ear. The trees have grown older, but all these years are but a short moment in their lifetime of never ending cycles of the seasons. For the rocks, I am not sure it would even register on their clock, as it must be a speck of time in their eternal life among the stars.

Standing by the water, reflecting, contemplating the passing of time, I realize that life will move on, and continue to change. It is inevitable. A fact. Until that last big change. Until then, it seems, I will keep my Sunday blues.

Winter’s Sunset

There’s something wonderfully sad about a winter’s sunset.
It deadens the pain, the melancholy of regret.

A fleeting moment of calm surrender.
And ephemeral beauty.

Captured in an instant.
Forever preserved.

In the vast darkness of my heart.
A tiny light deserved

Days of the Past – Part 2

Days of the Past 2

I remember the moments now past.
When hope was closer than despair still.

A friend could be called to talk about anything and everything.
Or for no reason whatsoever.
Life was good even when it made me weep.
All those small happy moments were mine to keep.

I remember before. Way before. In the past.
When the world lay at my feet still.

Hard work and dedication would always count.
At home or in the office, rewarded in generous amount.
Sky was the only limit, and just like a magic spell.
Everything always turned out well.

Days of the Past 1