A Recurring Thought
A Recurring Thought
Lately this thought came to my mind in a recurring way.
What if I die? What if I die?
Do the thoughts in my mind catch fire just like the body?
Do the thoughts, escape and find a new house for them?
Or do they run away to better higher places sitting on wings of birds.
I often wondered about the memories in my heart and head.
What would happen to them once I die?
Will they stay close to me and give me warmth on a windy day.
Will they play pick a boo when I sleep?
And drop down on hands and knees when I want to find them.
To help me wake up after a drowsy week, will my memories be their?
Or even they will turn into a wisp of cotton escaping through my fingers.
And the soul which they claim, how will it look?
Like a dainty fur ball, Flimsy likes of the Indian silk.
Or just thin air touching your cheek on a breezy night.
It could be like heart, shining like a fire ball
Whatever it be, it be
Once I am no more how it does matter this way or that
It should be just a peaceful sleep with no worries at all.