In the tree of our life
Every frondescence
Is like a memory taking its shape
Fortunate enough to be blessed with life,
Going through highs and lows
The sun and the storm
Strengthening its presence
In the tree that define us.
We live a hundred times
Creating events told and untold
Sometimes bold, sometimes broken.
We become a pile of stories
That we beautifully paste
In the scrapbook of our hearts
Reminiscing our seasons
Before the beauteous fall
Into an eternal closure
To renew the tree of life again.
--© Priyalakshmi Gogoi.
