A spirit tempered to endure
No matter how bumpy the road
How stinking the urinals
A stubborn gene
An odd stirring
A sharp tugging like Odysseus
Dreaming the dream of another quest
Unrolling the sleeping bag
Of passion and pleasure
In an uninhabited forest
Under the brightly lit stars
Away from the swirling currents
Of humanity.
A virus followed by a war
Paralyzed wanderlust
Fermenting paranoia
Travel plans on leash
Like an overstretched elastic
The already strained ecosystem
Hit back with brute force.
Industries, Corporate offices, theatres
Bistros ,cafés and saloons
Stood empty and grieving
Many festive occasions and promises
Morphed into shards
From the noisy pulsating collective
We became numb and solitary.
Nobody is born with faculties
To navigate with loss of freedom
Unnoticed, unfelt, unremembered
Missing the bonhomie of friends
There was nothingness to be dealt with
The mode of the journey turned inwards
The spiritual hygiene
To knit the fractured mind
Sanity as vital as sanitizing our hands.
An audience at intermission
Waiting for the concert of life to resume
We learn to adjust our sails
To slow down or speed
For the world never quits growing
With or without us
Like Odysseus returns home to Ithaca
We too come back to our souls
Plugged into our earphones.
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