a (trans/sent)ient conversation
"I think solitude is a state while loneliness is a condition."
She said once during a transient conversation.
That made me ponder about the difference between the two
And seek some clues in the cyclical moodswings of Autumn
Who reigns as a queen, a ruler supreme
Over the earth in short bursts
With a hand on the armrest of death and another on that of rebirth
While seated in all glory on a throne of detritus.
The invisible crown she wears
Rustles in the air and encircles her head
Without touching it
Unlike the hearts she breaks
Into shards of cliches
with her brutal ways
And never apologizes for it.
She never stays back long enough
To reveal the essence of her true nature,
That's really clever of her
To keep the mortals busy with renewal.
If she had mastered the art of solitude,
then she wouldn't be back,
Busy enjoying the perks of privacy
Behind the yellowing walls of her perennial palace.
That leaves us to believe that she seeks the approval
Of every falling leaf and promises them another chance to be green;
An agreement which Autumn signs with ease
onto the paper of the passing breeze.
The search for our roots is a lonely pursuit
While holding onto them imbues solitude
And transient conversations like these
Are drops of dew
That add bits of clarity to our points of view,
Baptising the withering cherry blossoms and maple leaves
lying in the laps of empty park benches
Then dusting them away with the meandering zephyr's broomstick.
When the brunettes, blondes, auburns and greys-
All blend into the same soil,
Autumn shows us some colorful ways
To paint the transience of life.