He walks with a swing,

A skinny, lanky, frame-

In a designer suit:

Swinging like a catwalk model,

Giving it a bit of this & that, with a zing!

A curious, secret, smile; framed by sparkling, knowing eyes-

Casting admiring looks from side-to-side; at taken-aback passers-by!

As he makes his way down the paved street-

In a dead straight line; whirling around impediments (with a smile, & a bob of the peaks)! Like in times gone by, with
a bowler hat…

Though this young man’s head is completely un-adorned, with nought but a haircut of modern accord-

One hand held aloft for balance or effect, none know not;

In the other, he carries a black walking stick, apparently of fine workmanship,

He waves it with extravagant gusto & flourish-

To appease the disgruntled overtaken & give pause to the snickering sticklers & quick-draw abusers;

For his journey is of particular import:

To strike two unsuspecting city loners (oft making eye contact but too afraid to talk) with Cupid’s arrow (or, in this case, a walking stick!)-

In essence:

A bolt of lightning, buying a moment in each other’s busy (yet unfulfilled lives)- to give an opportunity to tentatively exchange smiles and (finally) talk!

Not every strike finds love, in the end, he knew;

A chance is all he gives,

And, the rest, is, up to you!

I’m rolling down a mountain,

Jagged stones taking turns to cut me up from all sides,

A whirl of thunder & pain, rocking my very core off its hinges like an earthquake with a magnitude of 9.9,

I am battered & bruised all over by this unceasing ordeal, with no end to it in sight,

O’ father, bring me relief for this is all too much for one man to abide!

The answer, he knew, in spite of his present tumult:

Son, this is life…

So, you must tuck your head in, and -somehow – survive!

It trickles, threatens & finally falls,

Like snow white powder sprinkled by a cake-maker practicing his craft,

Will it take hold or simply melt away?

Depends how long this mother of all cakes has been left to settle after baking

Look at these leaves!

Such wondrous shades of vivid colour: engaging your eyes in a dance- a final flutter, from the tail of summer,

To make you remember such wonders- to engender/keep hope- through the coming cold, desolate, days of bitter winter!

Like shades of sunshine captured within receptacles of nature’s memory; a gentle annual lecture, delivered by a kind and compassionately-minded  mother nature!

So all ye faithful and devout! Forget not this inconsistent summer just passed; and, its memories of travels and days spent basking in the sun!

However, be mindful of spending too much time in rapture looking up at this nature’s 4D display of technicolor or, caught-up in your own reverie!

For you will slip on these fallen leaves, so quick-to-turn wet, and cause yourself an (avoidable) injury!

Each day is a reminder to me,

Each turn of the daylight wheel,

Brings you closer, day by day

Each friend I see; now coupled,now married, with children, and families of their own,

Each time I see them, I notice their children are a little more grown,

They call me by name, then uncle, ciya/grandpa or old man; until, finally, I’m gone

Remember parents with ageless beauty, both then and now-

Perhaps, that’s the affect of love bourne deep & strong

Each event is a repetition of what’s gone before:

Brought home increasingly swiftly to you, in neat-pocket size devices, in small bulletins to elicit rapture…until you move on…

My love, the implications of these words are hard to bear at times… I know;

Whatever cometh or happens in this life, let’s manage as best as we can.