Origin

I am participating in National Poetry Writing Month 2019. 30 Poems in 30 Days is the target.

The Day 11 Prompt for #NaPoWriMo is to write a poem of origin. I pondered over the idea for a while. Our origin is our identity. It defines who we are and how we are. But isn't this definition changing with time? We grow and adapt ourselves to various situations, walking on various paths. Origin, I feel, is evolution, as in we are creating ourselves every single day.

down the laid back streets

sprinkled in dusts that shine

trying to figure out the traces

I take one step at a time

these roads have been walked before

there are footprints all around

some big, few small, rest all vague

my path urges me to a distant mound

there're perhaps a thousand leaves

bunched together as a brownish lot

rummaging through the pile, I discover

the mound is not what I had thought

the leaves are but a diary

they are the pages from my past

listed are my ups and downs

how I tripped, and yet I did last

there are leaves that drip with tears

oh, how those days now appear so near

some in the pile highlight my mistakes

and how I crossed my share of fears

in a corner I see a greener bunch

the leaves looking fresh and bare

no, they hold no marks, nor any stories

it is upon me to fill those layers

where would I go, what is my 'next'

I have been evolving every since

we are born not just once

each passing day is our new origin

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• NaPoWriMo - Day 11