Waiting for a Sign

WSitting at the edge of time,

I am waiting for a sign,

A small gesture of kindness by the gods,

May be touch of a gentle breeze,

Or,

Smile of a blooming flower,

Looking around,

I am waiting for a sign,

In the shining of the moonlight,

Away from the stars,

In the sounds of silenece,

I am,

Waiting for a sign,

With the passing of time,

Looking at my rhytiding face,

I look at each memory with a distant pleasure,

A combination of pain and joy,

Scars remind me of my success,

Tracks of my tears write the story of my loss,

With a broken smile and a blind faith,

I am still,

Waiting for a sign.

Move on!

Have I ever been in love?

I found myself asking this,

While, I was flipping years in my memory,

I saw objects of compassion and a few steps of ladders,

Faced with misspelled names and mistaken identities.

The transition of nouns into pro-nouns,

Verbs into pro-verbs,

Defining a lot what I have witnessed and what I have forgotten,

The gains and losses I made over time,

All this is forcing, while

Yelling at me,

"Move on, move on!"

A Mute Song of Happiness

In the suburbs of the heart,

Away from the graveyard of the past,

I walk through the memory lane,

Reaching to a place,

Where I can rest and gaze in the future,

Unfolding it in front of my eyes,

Moment to moment,

I become an audience to myself,

A spectator to my life,

Like an unfinished dream,

Crude and jarring,

Deep and calm,

Enigmatic and misunderstood,

Like a mute song of happiness.