Listening to the Hum of the Past #poem #FictionMonday

A sepia-toned swatch of moments
from yesterdays
playing in my mind’s courtyard,
serenading my today—
a quiet, tireless hum enveloping.

Memories gather—
soft echoes of what was,
a distant glow of the past
inviting me
to go back in time
and
linger a moment longer,
past, where I sometimes seek refuge,
and sometimes, find one.

I reach
for the warmth of voices
once near,
the laughter threaded
through sunlit days,
the quiet of
twilight,
when time seemed to stretch,
where goodbyes were only temporary—
yet some were mandatory,
and some, permanent.

The past
—a door that cannot be opened,
only glimpsed
through a keyhole of memory.
So I stay here,
cradling the echoes,
letting them hum their quiet tune,
serenading my today—tirelessly.

© Vinitha Dileep


This piece is written in response to the two hundredth and forty-second edition of Fiction Monday inspired by the word prompt – PAST hosted by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.

Fiction Monday

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7 thoughts on “Listening to the Hum of the Past #poem #FictionMonday

  1. This is so beautifully written. ” The past —a door that cannot be opened,only glimpsed
    through a keyhole of memory.” I loved the emotions and the imagery! This one is going into my list of favourite poems.

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  2. so beautifully written. I step into my memories often, thinking about childhood days and growing years – so many hellos and way too many goodbyes. Feels like lifetime ago.

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  3. Vinitha, how do you pen such fabulous poems? Every line is filled with pure emotion. The past is a door that cannot be opened yet it stays with us wherever we go. There are moments I want to forget but some I will cherish forever.

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  4. How beautifully you defined it, Vinitha – ‘The past – a door that cannot be opened’! Your lines, ‘Where goodbyes… mandatory’ brought back memories of some moments that made me sad… ‘So I stay here’ is another powerful phrase!

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  5. So beautiful – keyhole of memory – such imagery, Vini. I find myself smiling at a memory sometimes and at other times some memory will clutch at my heart reminding me of an old wound that still needs healing. What would we be without our memories!!

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  6. I love the last lines – “The past—a door that cannot be opened….serenading my today—tirelessly,” especially the part of glimpsing through the keyhole of memory. It is as if they are telling my own story. Beautifully written.

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