Musing By The Chattahoochee River
A Poem
It’s a beautiful evening just after Thanksgiving; The Sun is about to set, and Autumn is ending.
Strolling on the grass by the Chattahoochee, I stop by a swing near a hammock-clad tree.
Auburn leaves and the reds, the yellows, and their shades Now look into the river as their glory slowly fades.
Beholding ducks flying o’er the river’s golden retreats, I think of Wordsworth and Frost and Thoreau and Keats.
What must’ve inspired their verse now conspires to inspire mine! What ostentatious displays of colors, by the hands divine!
The cold, biting breeze slowly begins to make its trip And a bleak, lonely shudder, down my spine, takes its grip.
The melancholy of the zeitgeist now presents itself to me; Before their appointed times, why, men the world do flee?
While their lands jolt each day, shunning the remnants of mirth; What merit do we possess to witness this heaven on earth?
Perhaps, times and seasons are happenstance to all; Pieces of this puzzle, in place, will someday fall.
Yet rapt in the warmth of a coffee and the depth of the river nearby. I quietly ponder on how life unravels and heals and does grow by and by.
Prashansa Chandekar, 24th November, 2017
The 24th of November, 2017, is an infamous day. The day of the Sinai mosque terrorist attack with over 300 casualties. It was a shocking piece of news. This poem came out of the shock and horror of the devastation juxtaposed with the serenity of nature that was in front of me.
Poetry has the power to help us deal with what we go through in life. It helps us make sense of the world around us. When things are way out of hand, and when we have no power whatsoever over our circumstances, we can choose to write — write poetry!
