By Krishna Advani
Picture source: Pinterest.com
The following poem is on the deceptively rosy picture that the past often appears as in the metaphorical ‘rearview mirror’, seeming to be far brighter than the colours of the present.
CAUTION: Objects seem brighter than they appear.
my mom tells me that to
every thunderstorm my life weathers
there is a silver lining
that God has piped
as though mine is the
singular cupcake in his
patisserie display — to adorn
and create with a hand
as delicate as hope itself.
so i nod along to her belief
and agree in a manner as selective
as picking broken seashells on the beach.
as i nod along, though—
i try to believe that the people
who came and left,
hail and fury,
sowed seeds in the crevices
of a broken trust
that now blooms each winter.
i hear her out, constantly
thinking of my rearview mirror.
you see— my rearview mirror has this
perplexing tendency to show all that is behind me
in shades brighter than they were
when i stood amongst them.
the lanes and the skies
all seem painted
with a finer
and i know that looking behind is dangerous
because my fear serves as a constant reminder
that if i dedicate one moment too many to the blue of the sky behind me,
i will total the hopes i managed to
squeeze myself into.
and i know that it only takes a moment
for the irreversible to occur.
but i cannot take my mind off of how
the picture of you waving goodbye
suddenly seems rosier in retrospect.
how your driveway, one day
opened onto opportunities instead of yearning.
and suddenly, all i could do was stare
at the sky in the rearview mirror
because i have this tendency
to never catch the present in time.
so as i gaze
and as i risk
i make peace with the present,
actively watching it
distance itself from me.
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