Memories

Memories.

Seasons may come and go
In succession of each like
the legal heirs in
long, unbroken thread of dynasty,
leaving their reprints in blossoming
buds, flowers, chirping buds,
buoyant youths in singing merry tunes,
thick in laid woody forests,
cottons, autumnal leaves ,ice flakes,
frozen rivers , deserted tents,
all in cycles, recycling pattern,
but memories do not leave us
that easily, cling to us as children
to mothers, as nations to histories ,
they tend to monopolise some
corner of our minds , hearts, asserting
in bouts and feelings :
Those memories can be cobwebs,
which you tend to brush aside
with a strong brush of determination,
but your brain clings to them as
inevitable episodes to sprout forth,
some memories can be candelabrum,
ever glowing and could be torch bearer .

If God’s Memory is not strong,
His Boons are not effectual,
Who knows what are the
Banes of His Memory?