9I Saw March Beyond The Horizon
Poetry
The month of pride,
March,
asserts;
her huge stride
on the melancholic grim of February.
Like dying men bleeding in red,
February was quiet, slept her tenure
and March with bugle, trumpets, and violin arrived!
How poor was her predecessor, she thought!
laughed at her crippling feet;
hardly days twenty-eight, she could walk!
February though was content,
numbers hardly mattered to her
she savoured her brief life mindfully;
having tiny bits of crumbs judiciously and that
made March her counterpart jealous of her immensely.
She eyed February minutely
and teased her in every instance.
February was not worthy at all she thought;
how can she follow someone melancholy,
she was effervescent and this hierarchy disturbed her a lot.
Racing to the top from the word Go,
with an army of thirty-one strong bright days to boast;
she moved with power,
to display;
a streak of colors to the poor February,
who had only crimson to showcase!
Her arrogance grew leaps and bounds
she did not know how to stop,
her pride grew in arithmetic progression!
and it was time for her to revise her attitude!
She failed to do so;
went wild with absolute powers of aristocracy;
Ridiculing February, as a miser,
sustaining on days twenty-eighty!
saving her income,
one fourth, each year; to fend a morsel;
an extra bread,
in a leap year!
Finally, she can to party only after four years!
March reserved an abundant platter to succour
but even then she was jealous of the baby month,
a plate of lilies, daisies, periwinkle, she advertised
teasing her of falling leaves!
Proclaiming cornucopia,
she smiled like a beast!
March assumed that she was immortal and divine,
faltering, the laws of the universe,
she defied,
the age-old truth, only to fall off the grid!
Little did she think,
overpowered by April!
she too will soon perish.
Nothing holds on permanently to this world
and arrogance is the least of them!
The food of God is arrogance and
he does eat them in first instance!
March was devoured too!
Change is the only constant!
Don’t hold pride and arrogance,
before you think,
things will change with a blink
And though you thought of yourself as indispensable,
not a heart will ever remember;
neither February nor March or July
nor us,
no Tom, Dick, or Harry
nor the prince or princess
will ever be remembered.
Once upon a time they had lived,
a word or two in honour of the demised,
but our absence will hardly make,
any difference to their existence
Walk your path modestly,
you never know it can be your last stride!
