Tuesday, February 25, 2014


What remains when the embers are spent?
Distant music reachable only by a distant chord
Ties that bind beyond grave and funeral pyre

The notes in my music books lay dying smelling like the dying do
The pall of their impending demise hung over their bodies
Long before they actually truly died

The conflagration consumed that which had died
What remained was the distilled love of life
That had once been music

It had felt so useless saying goodbye to my music
How do you say goodbye to a parent or a child
Or a sibling who is dying?

You are too close for comfort too entrenched in your ways
With relating to one another over meals banter familiar chatter
Goodbyes such as these don’t have a proper place in these relations

So when the time comes to part ways you just up and leave
Like nothing ever happened like you’ll be back for tea
You’ll talk about the weather the news the neighbor’s kid

So I left one day my music sheets my notes my instruments
And never looked back until one day
They came looking for me
                                                                                                                          ~   Sonali


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