there is a pause between each breath;
that place
is
where death resides-
and
life surrenders
and
spurts forth
again

the sun rises between that fullness
and dies its own death
each evening

nothing is forever
no one lives that long

wrinkled hands turn the album
reliving a life in captured moments-
a wedding photograph
the first child
a family reunion
a birthday here
and an old crumpled photo
of your father, a husband, a wife and a mother
faded glory
lie limply in your treasured albums

starched uniforms and degrees in hands
full with rapture
dreamers are walking pavements worn out
standing under the shade of the old neem
waiting on life

bumping into old friends from college
doppelgänger of your own life
where have the years been spent
how have you been
has life spent you enough?
take a deep breath- remind yourself again
there is a pause that rests
in the deep recesses of your being
waiting for you-
silent reminder
still resonance
death is but a pause between lives 

…

Dee is from Lahore, Pakistan. Loves dark nights and old trees.