And when the last show has been done
And the curtain falls, one last time, on the night
And the stage, abandoned, except for those who
Lurk on the edges, undoing the glorious garb it wore
When, the people slowly pour out, in the
First great wave, than a trickle, as the flow
Is damned, in loud, then hushed riposte
If ever you could, hushed…
When only your other self, that wowed remains
Ethereal, formless on the emptied stage
You sigh.
The high, of having been that form
The regret of now leaving it behind
And always, the yearning.
Why did it have to end?
11 February, 2012
What a beauty Usha
I asked Autumn if shedding leaves was a must
and it smiled and said it is if you want a spring burst
you weave such beautiful poetry…
Soma
What a beautiful reply… yours and Autumn’s!
Thank you, infinitely.
Beautifully written lines. I see Joe still lingers on. So you see it doesn’t really end. In tthoughts, in dreams, in hopes and in hearts.
Tito.
Joe lingers, yes. He will, always. And yes, in the nicest way possible.
Yesterday was Annual Day at school. I kept seeing him running around, that year, those years when he was a part of it. It was rather overwhelming, that part, though I did enjoy the performances, and helping our little snowflakes (a Winter Dance of the Snowflakes was what I was part of
) to get into their costumes, tie their hair! It was fun. And poignant.
Thank you, Tito
Why did it have to end?
Why indeed. Usha, loved this. The ethereal formless being left on the empty stage… wow that’s a lovely way of putting it.
Shail. As Tito has said, it does not have to end I guess, we take it along in our hearts
Thank you for the lovely note 
Yeah… it doesn’t have to end, we take it along in our hearts.
IHM, hugs. You’re right!