Feather-light, dust of time's decay, In memories' grip, we find our way, Beneath the star-laden sky, Waves of longing in my mind's eye. Heady, intoxicating, these recollections, A solitary figure in life's intersections, Lost within the fields of golden rye , Where nostalgia and solitude intertwine. Each feather, a whisper of days long past, In the dust, their stories forever cast, Glimmering stars above, a cosmic sea, Yet in my head, these waves will be. Alone, I stand, 'midst the amber sea, In the rye of memories, just me, A critical heart, aching to know, Where did those fleeting moments go? - Sumitra