Old Memories Poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai

When a new season comes with new wishes sweet
It seems to be with vast designs replete.
It brings huge bundles bound in winds frisk
And wanton wafts that move about so brisk.
But when one sits to open these bundles
And the finger of Time on them fondles,
The old memories come forth like Alah Din's giant
That speaks in words very hard not pliant.
And takes us back to the shadows old
To wrestle against the giant, we are not that bold.

When a new season brings new flowers with scent
Whose forceful invitation no one can resent.
The colors, like banners, allure our imitation
To get lost in them without any preparation.
Then the colors mix and become red like blood
That drowns us in the past memories' flood.



When a new season brings clouds of flash and thunder
The ice and fire's combination creates a wonder.
He seems to be an expert in actions of plunder
His wrath seems this world to asunder.
When the rain captures our minds to forest
Memories come there to take us to old sunset.

When a new season brings fog, cold wind and night
Obscure, blurred and romantic becomes each sight.
Warm clothes become part of our skin and bulk
From heaven to earth stands a hollow hulk.
When we want to compose poetry sweet
And begin to write on a paper neat,
Old memories take the pen and put it aside.
We find bushes, shrubs, herbs in a desert wide.

When a new season brings fall that fills ground with leaves
It seems that the season, like bereaved people, heaves.
Old servants get rid of their duties, at last
And move to their mud houses so fast.
When we watch the ruined leaves falling down
We find ourselves in memories to drown.

Seasons come and seasons go, but memories stay
Memory is heart, heart memory, to all they say.
Old memories are like the old wine for a drunkard
They have their arrangement in life haphazard.
They are the gold of our heart's cabinet
All the time, there they remain present.
08-05-2017, Monday 5: 05pm