Echoes Of The Past Poem by ashok jadhav

I wandered down the narrow lane
Where autumn leaves lay thick and brown;
The air was crisp, the sky was pale,
And memories came softly down.
I saw the laughter of my youth
Like sunlight through the shifting trees;
I heard the songs long left behind,
And felt them stir within the breeze.
The river whispered secret tales
Of days I'd lived but nearly lost;
Each ripple carried fleeting dreams,
Each stone recalled the lines it crossed.
The house still held the echo faint
Of voices spoken, long and dear;
A chair, a table, walls and beams,
Could bring the vanished world near.
For memory is a gentle ghost,
It walks beside us, never gone;
It shapes the heart, it lights the mind,
And lingers with the morning dawn.
So when I pause in quiet thought,
And let the past unfold its streams;
I find the soul of all I was,
Alive again within my dreams.