It has been raining for three straight days now
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Of rain falling on the windows and ledges
On drooping leaves
And tin roofs
That springs forth sudden bouts of existential sadness
From the very dungeons of my being
It is almost as if I have lived many lifetimes
And yet
There are seeds in me that are yet to sprout
And await the causality of death
To cure this cycle of inconsequential living!
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Readers: This is not a poem on Depression. As per Indian scriptures the life that we live is an illusion and full of existential strife. Spiritual journey begins with the appreciation of existential sadness beyond temporal joys and sorrows.
This is moving and evocative!
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