The Crossroads

'Tis here, amidst the woods, I seek solitary respite,
Far from cramped cubicles, cold cells of granite,
Braced by the seamless serene to soak up my tears,
I breathe in, the familiar fragrance, of sweeter yesteryears.

While the broad expanse of the tranquil moonlight,
Reveals the Crossroads ahead; and I must go right,
And make my way, before it's late, to the distant city lights,
To the crumbling rubble I call home, to lonesome melancholy nights.

Twilight descends on homesick wings, that sail into the sapphire sky,
An eerie stillness stifles the air, and sedates the howling ravine,
The rustling leaves, the cimmerian streets, quiver like never before,
They whisper something into my ears; and I'm not sure which way's Home...

I know not what makes me turn the other way,
As I look down the path I've never dared to take,
We exchange glances; there's something uncanny about his beckoning,
The city lights seem yet distant, and I stand there wondering.

Of green miles, and labyrinths ahead, of misty bonfire nights,
Of summer strolls by cerulean rivers, and meadows that breathe life,
Of mystic mountains, and endless winters, sheathed in pristine snow,
Of all the nights worth sleepless delight, of starry, ethereal glow.

Of sizzling ports, and lofty ships, roaring across the waterways,
Of merry rovers, of azure seas, of islands faraway,
Whence the weary tide washes by the frozen sands of time,
Cloistered beyond the rusty reach of crude city life.

I feel the shackles slip off my bloodied arms and wrists,
The familiar pulse; the ardent call, I could never resist,
That's been doused under decades of alcoholic nights,
Now it kindles and shimmers with rapturous delight!

The whispers resound through the air, and I now hear what they say,
I think of all the storms I've weathered, and all those purposeless days,
I see the mist settle, and the silver moonlight illuminating my way,
With bated breath, the Romantic murmurs, "Why not run away?"

Reviews

[Agyani]

Hi Swagato
I reached here through a friend of yours (Esther), but I'm glad she asked me to read this.
My, you have a way with words! This looks like the kind of poems I had to read in the final years of high-school. The metaphors and the imagery are sublime and enveloping, and the verses are articulate. I found this poem truly masterful! :)

One thing about which I beg to differ is the ending. The way you have described the narrator's frame of mind and the struggles he/she has faced up to this point, I think embracing the crossroads and discovering whatever lies beyond the confines of the city is an act of liberation rather than an escape. There's a difference between the two, which isn't too clear but isn't so subtle that it's unnoticeable either. This is what I think. I wonder why you wrote it like that.

[Swagato Saha]

I'm glad you brought that up. As I recall I was going through one of my rougher patches back then and that somehow found a way through I guess. Also, in this case, not only is he running away, it's more like, he's running towards something albeit that's somewhat contradictory. So, it's liberation through escape.

[Agyani]

Liberation through escape doesn't really go well here, according to me. Your poem suggests the inner turmoil the person faces and how it is tormenting him. Liberation through escape makes more sense in a case when someone is imprisoned. You might argue that the person in the poem is imprisoned in his city, but his location wasn't enforced on him, right? Again, it's a small difference, but not so small that you should ignore.
I hope you don't mind me pressing this issue. It's just that your writing is so awe inspiring and placating with its grace I thought I'd mention something I found a bit off. :)

[Swagato Saha]

I quite look forward to discussions such as this.

[barleygirl]

It looks like you have a big fan in Esther. She also read-requested me on this & other poems of yours. This is the first one I've read so far. You are a poet in the style of the old greats, yet your manner of expression is contemporary enough to be somewhat conversational, not stilted. I like that you rhyme when it works but you don't reach for a rhyme if it doesn't. Rhyming doesn't have to be all starched. Reading Agyani's review, I disagree & I feel your ending is fitting becuz the narrator has clearly been living in shackles. After this, one gradually inhales the idea of freedom (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Esther]

One of the best poems I've come across.