Past for many,
Passes them by,
Like a river,
Every water they touch,
Is different at different times,
They don't dwell on what has passed.
Or, like a fast-moving conveyance,
They don't look back,
Faces facing forward,
Eager to know what is ahead.
While my past comes back to me,
Like the ripples of the ocean,
Even when I try to push them away,
Like the rocks on the shore,
Leaving froths around.
So, I willingly walk forward,
And fall into the sea,
Letting myself get carried away by the waves.
Always facing backward,
In the fast-moving life,
Feels good to travel in the opposite direction,
Confusing left and right, forward and reverse,
Like life itself.
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Author:
Qurra Ain (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 27th, 2024 09:31
- Comment from author about the poem: I like travelling facing backwards. When everyone is looking forward, it feels like everything is passing by us in a rewind motion. Some people say it makes them dizzy, but this feels like moving across a different world.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
- User favorite of this poem: Maplespal.
Offline)
Comments2
Wow beautiful poem ! I truly enjoyed my visit
Thank you!
Beautifully visual. Once the water has flowed under the river’s bridge it won’t return. Facing backwards is an interesting way of looking at life. I enjoyed your words dear poet. 🌹
Thank you. I'm so glad that you enjoyed!
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