By Garvita Singh
"Do not stand by my grave and weep", they said.
Here's something she would have said instead.
"Hey, smile, all of your smiles are beautiful."
Hers was more than that- contagious- magical.
She would have placed some affirmatives,
Lifted up some heads, made a few initiatives.
Would have shaken up something within,
For she preferred happy losses over wins.
She is a loss.
A sudden remorse.
She wasn't a poem you could recite.
She was a precious prose that could ignite.
Her passion could not be contained within lines.
It never knew where to stop, it defied confines.
She could blow up the stage, blow away minds.
With you, within you, she resides.
Nudging you to improvise.
Encouraging you to smile.
She was a sparkling river,
Flowing for many miles.
Rolling for miles,
Oh! Our Nile.
"Farewell to thee! But not farewell!", they said.
Here's what I tell you instead.
Your voice empowered.
Moved even a coward.
You had entered my room,
And the lights had showered.
We would relate,
And resonate.
We lost a guardian too soon.
Realization, I'm afraid, too late.
They say, "Nothing gold can stay."
A night has to pass to bring a new day.
Look! A shimmery gleam of bright light!
Only angels have to depart this way.
By Garvita Singh