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Winter


The spiders and the roaches beat a retreat
As November moves on to gnarled mists.
They are not like the human beings
And cannot put on layers to suit the season.

Man is the crown of God’s creation
‘cause he can add on layers and beat the season.
His smile can shine through the mist
With a dagger tucked away behind the mask.

Masks and layers make life’s winter warm
And conceal the colour deep down
While we fumble through the mist
Searching for the very same colour.





Comments

  1. Replies
    1. Could be valid in any season with some modification :)

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  2. Super poem and lovely words. Since you said it is valid for any season, i would prefer rain or sun! Not too fond of cold.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm also not fond of cold, Shweta. In fact, winters are a pain for me. But the layers that people put on even in the other seasons - they are far more scary.

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  3. Beautiful poem.Man can add layers to beat not only any season but any situation. It is difficult to know the true nature of man.

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    Replies
    1. So many layers, masks and chameleon-like colours. Very difficult indeed to know the true nature.

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  4. Great symbolism! and the man spent most of his life to gauge beneath the layers and artificial warmth of others forgetting, his own reality in the quest.. yeah liek you n Shweta I too prefer sunshine and may be some blue clouds with silver lining :)

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    Replies
    1. The masks have been both amusing and frightening. These days I find a few of them become terrifying...

      ... We are the sunshine people :)

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  5. Nice to read a poem by you sir, so far I have been enjoying the articles. Nice take on winter, unfortunately for me Chennai doesn't offer much change in climate.

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    Replies
    1. I write poems very rarely, Athena.

      I know Chennai, like my home state Kerala, doesn't offer much variety by way of temperature.

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  6. Searching for the very same colour. Spot on!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's the one of the paradoxes of life I have noticed.

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  7. Replies
    1. It's poetic, I know. I seem to have borrowed it from somewhere because a similar line is there somewhere in my mind written by some known poet.

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