Unopened Letters Poem by Avik DattaGupta

There is a breeze upon my window pane,
It sounds like a knock upon my door,
The clouds hang heavy, filled with rain,
As silent choices gather more and more.

Choices of unopened letters with voices,
Air trapped in a silent corridor of noises,
A Summer's chill in Winter's warm joys,
Where nothing destroys and nothing annoys.

Good days of pleasure, simple and awake,
Free from the pains and the burdens we take,
Strange when there is nothing to hate,
Better late than never, but never better late!

Nothing is sold for a serving price,
No matter how often you roll the dice,
Battered bones rattle in a wooden cup like ice,
As altruism conquer the next avarice.

Another morning with another deep meaning
Another array of feelings with newer deep thoughts!
When a still moment simply stops the ticking
To count what we have, by joining all the dots.

There is a breeze upon my window pane,
And a note gets slipped under my door this time!
With voices of children through the rain
Turning chilled disdains to warmth sublime