Saturday, October 17, 2015

||As delusional
as it may seem;
The same distance,
The entire stretch
Of the long winding road
you trod
to reach your destination;
From that point of start.
With trees,
moonwalking backwards;
Dwellings and shelters
fleeting,
goodbyes
not waving.  
Longer and farther,
it seems
as you press headfirst.
Peculiar places, landmarked.
Phases and cross roads, earmarked.
Dropping, imaginary breadcrumbs;
Paved the way
behind,
so you may
conveniently, find your way
back.
And then, you reach.

Now, U-turn.
You’re back.
Perhaps, way quicker than
what it took you to reach;
The pursuit, an uphill climb.
The return, a steep tumble.
Perhaps, at a blink’s pace.
Note to self: "Let not
every journey turn into a race"||