A Passing Thought Poem by Ranadeb Bhattacharya

A languid stroll by the deserted esplanade,

Watching the battery of waves glide past the jagged shores,

As they vanish into frothy rivulets

And become a thing of the dissolving past.

I watch the twilight descend on a sanctuary of placid ecstasy.

I watch with composure as the sky alters

From loosely stranded shades of dullness,

To Hope - life's eternal poetry.



I feel the slow caress of time,

Mend the winded ways of chances lost

In the somber ocean of tattered dreams.

As our soaring aspirations wither away

In the cold embrace of tyrannical fate.

When despair in her russet hue,

Cracks her whip on our bruised souls,

A lone voice in her radiant aura cries—

Don't give up for there is hope.

Don't give up for we still have hope.



The spring of life in her seasonal shades,

Lends the script of tears and bliss,

For each one to play their part

Before the booming chime of the Church bell tolls

And the time draws near to finally depart.

But the endless medley of life resumes,

In her splendor and divine majesty

Tireless in her quest for newness,

To shape the coming morrow

From the rustic pages of history.



In the raging chaos of a bleeding heart,

Where all passions burn to cinders and decay

Where each soul takes a lonely stroll

In the virgin silence of the mystic night

To find the solitary oasis of love.

Deep inside a voice quivers,

The poet in me, the eternal lover,

‘Stand not still, keep walking,

Think not of failure or triumph

Just keep walking,

Don't let your spirit clog and fail,

For there is the kiss of liberty and hope

At the end of every road".