Like a chrysalis moon, I emerge out of my yesteryears, with nostalgia dripping from my veins.

I look for a home far away from home

like a rootless man seeking a sense of belonging to a place.

As I stand by my window and gaze outside

threadbare memories look for  sunshine on a frosty noon,

their faint murmur is like the bourdon note of yesterday.

From the other end of the horizon, a new tomorrow beckons me,

I trundle along to hold its hand. 

A yesterday wrapped in camaraderie walks past me

and vanishes into the silence of a late winter evening.

As the last train leaves the station,

I prepare to leave yesterday behind

like the old geometry box that I no longer need. 

On my way back, a Gulmohar reminds me,

‘Every end is a new beginning’.

I metamorphose into a butterfly moon.