Friday, June 25, 2010

The second law of Thermodynamics

When I am gone, think of me
rarely, like an incidence on the edges
of consciousness, remembered
only when the heart is made maudlin,
Perhaps by a glass of wine too many,
Making aching feet climb the creaky stairs
to the attic, wary hands reach
for the old photo album, to dust off a print,
Rememberance of a summer day
long past, the sound of laughter
clinging still to the dust.

On those rare nights, let not
falling tears soak the arid earth,
Instead, with a fond smile and sparkling eyes,
Let the sun curl around
the sharp edges of the night. Remember
the shared moments, hear
the hushed whispers, taste
ice-creams fought over, smell
the sweat-seeped sheets, feel once again
the urgency of my lips searching yours.
Remember the quarrels too, the days
we refused to speak, hating each other
for the sullen silence spread between us,
Also a child of the love we shared.

Let the intervening years fall away
for an instant, the illuminated past
etched sharply in your eyes, like the answer
to a puzzle long unsolved, that flashes
suddenly in the eyes of the mind,
Like your beauty unwrapped
in the stillness of the night, with
the clothes having slowly fallen away.
But do not dwell for long
on days gone by, the present
is fragile always, the future
still unmapped, the past tricked often
by memory painting it in vivid hues.
Shut the door to memories in a minute
or two. Entropy increases with time,
And the pieces of a shattered dream
can never be put together again.

Things which are gone are gone forever,
But what remains must live through its days.

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