Reminiscing in Verses

By Mitra Samal


The wind blows bringing in the 
redolence of my land
I bow my head and pay my homage

When the Siberian cranes flutter 
their wings in winter 
I reminisce the sultry smell of our lakes

When I stretch my eyes to the 
epitaph of the ocean
I feel my country’s sands slither 
away from my fingers

When I hear the cuckoo’s enchanting song
I float dreamily to our mango gardens 
with fresh blossoms

The sweet aroma of the baked cookies in cafes
Reminds me of my mother’s petite kitchen

Oh! How it feels to be disparate from one’s native land
To be lost in a sea of strangers for what duty demands
The lakes, the trees, the sea and my share of sky
Something that was to live for and will be always to die

If I don’t live to grow old

If I don’t live to grow old
You will still have my verses
to trace back to the days,
we smiled despite the
summer tempest that
showered on our egos

You will still find yourself
in my words and remember
our carefree laughter from
another time that set our
moods ablaze with zest 

If I don’t live to grow old
You will still have my pages
that speak of the time we spent
together, the contentment
that is timeless, and shall
last for now and ever

You will still read between
my lines and be our dream
catcher, feel what I lived
to create and saved for
you to pursue later

If I don’t live to grow old
You will still grow old
in some corner of my book,
in the lines of my page,
in the stanzas of my poetry
and in the words of my verse

Mitra Samal mostly writes poems and occasionally pens down stories or memoirs. She is a software professional with a passion for both technology and literature. She often participates in poetry open mics. Her works have been published in various online and print media. She is also an avid reader and a Toastmaster who loves to speak her heart out.



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