Our Stories/Death

Each chapter, each tale ends
Measured in so many summers and monsoons
And reminding us of the mere assumption
of seasons to come
Merely because we span many
Seems sad
Life also sees it in days and hours,
And eternities spent in them
It is a beautiful flow
The ever expanding fabric
Tapestry of myriad patterns, colours and memories
Where being and not being
Are but points.
It’s the flow that’s beautiful, forever, amazing
And a celebration irrespective of the happenings in it
The rest is mere perception.