Dharanidhar Adhikari
In realms where whispers dance with dawn’s own light,
Silent titans walk, their shadows cast in twilight.
Unseen, their tales, beneath the all-seeing orb,
Bound not to the heavens, but to the earth they absorb.
As dusk wraps its arms in a final, solemn embrace,
And shadows perform their silent ballet in space,
A crescendo of voices rises from silence’s bed,
A tide of tributes for those whose time has shed.
Why do we wait for the hush to gift our crowns,
In fields barren, where their essence no longer resounds?
Why not under the high sun, our accolades bloom,
To honor the living before the twilight consumes?
Let’s not linger until the night’s frosty fingers close,
To dress in homage those we can no longer enclose.
Seek the waning, the fragile, under day’s bright dome,
With actions, not just words, let our love roam.
For when they drift beyond the grasp of mortal sight,
Your whispered affection might touch the celestial light.
Yet, far better to share love under the sun’s gaze,
With kind acts seen, in the full light of day.
Thus, step forth into the garden where the living flowers grow,
Let love’s voice rise and through the shadows, blow.
For it’s in the giving, before the final curtain’s fall,
That we truly gift our souls, our love, our all.
The departed hear not our belated songs of sorrow,
It’s the living who thirst for love’s morrow.
Let’s craft anew this ancient play,
With love for the living, in the bright light of day.
This be our mission, in the time we’re allotted,
To lift the living with love, unthrottled.
For at the journey’s end, it’s the love we’ve shared,
That lights the darkest paths, and shows we’ve cared.
