Category: Written in 2004

When the Heart Breaks.

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia2 Comments

They say that when a heart breaks
there is no sound –
Funny, I could hear every sound –
I heard its beat when it fell in love,
I sighed when i heard it sigh
Knowing things would die,
I listened to the beats skip,
When the news came of goodbye –
And I heard it when it was silent by and by.
Then I felt the sound that tore out,
It was like blood being splattered,
From a high rise to the pavement below –
When you refused to recognise it.
The sound was like – well, blood,
Needed but yet spurned, as it pumps
In vain out from a severed artery.
The thing broke – and I heard each beat
Magnified in my ear – and I wondered
Embarrassed, if all could hear it on the street.

They say when the heart breaks, there is no sound –
The sound to me –
Was like the sky crashing upon the ground.

29th April

Wings.

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Sun sets in the West,
Waving goodbye from his chariot of gold;
The kestrels soar and follow,
In ones and twos like knights of old.

Blue turns white with heat,
Nearest to the swooping chariot’s gleam;
The knights drop and soar lower –
The white bursts into colour from beam to beam.

Wings fall, beat once and lift
Eyes keen look upon the hastening King.
Years have passed and all’s same:
Of this Parade there’ve been many songs to sing.

Wind through its feathers,
One Knight circles effortlessly in bliss,
And I, below, look up
And believe that sky, those colours are his.

So it was when I was a child,
So it is now that I am old,
As the Sun sets in the West,
Waving good bye from his chariot of gold.

28th April
6p.m.

But Perhaps…

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I may not have the eyes that you dreamed of,
Nor may my ideas ideally in yours fit,
Nor may my smile now be what you think of,
But once they were what you fell in love with.

I may not be as young as I used to be,
Nor am I as thin, nor have as much hair,
Nor does time allow me security …
But my heart still beats with the same flair.

Perhaps I must learn love changes with time
And fades as does my ageing skin’s glow,
Perhaps love cannot be kept solely mine,
And I must know when to gently let go.

Someday as you lay lonely in your bed,
And your youth fights with creeping years,
Perhaps you’ll be the jealous one instead,
And perhaps then you’ll understand my fears.

30th October