My Steps With Him Poem by Pushkar Bisht

When I was in my teens,
He was in his eighties,
but the immense gap of our age
didn't interfere between us.
We made a profound camaraderie,
The camaraderie sustained till last.

Treading with him every pace,
that made a intimacy between us.
The kinship was not bound to him,
but a special gift was from God we both had.
By experiencing many ups and downs,
He made his wonderful life to the last stage.

Having a seat next to him on the bench,
Treating me as his grandson,
Caressing me with his delicate hands,
Instilling perception into my mind,
Now resting in abundance of everything,
in which my speed was at the snail's speed.

Life was gloomy but got bright,
Narrating me a number of tales,
Being inspired by all his words,
Life started to bloom in a wonderful way.
Listening to his every spoken word
Capturing that into my mind for good.

Stumbling over the stone,
I would lend him my hand,
Standing erect then made a move,
Eyes looking everything blurred,
But the valour made him reach home.

I was missing him a lot
When he came no more to see me,
But the painful moment occurred,
and was a big shock over me,
When I heard about his decease,
I felt my steps with him gone.