(This poem is dedicated to my English teachers: Mrs.Rangama(1995-1997), Mr.Deepthi Parakrama(1998-2000), Mrs.Wasantha Subasinghe(2001-2003) of Kuli/Central College, Kuliyapitiya)
“….Stability itself is nothing but a more languid motion….”
Michel De Montaigne-Of Repentance
With envy I eye,
The huge iron-gate,
The narrow, tree-lined tarmac,
And the vast play-ground,
As I ride,
By my Alma-Mater,
Once our paradise.
The security people
At the gate,
New buildings,
Excesses brought about by time,
A changer, a leveller,
An obliterator,
Stand obtrusive,
In my sight,
Almost an eye-sore!
O the heavy change in the familiar,
The known and the accustomed!
Yet, the temple trees abloom,
The willow-tops dancing in the wind,
The old stone wall,
Still appear to me,
Ageless, unchanged,
Stability I call it,
And let old memories be reawakened,
And my heart be filled with joy.
But, in the offing,
About the gay willow tops,
I see something faint floating,
In the wind.
Maybe, a dry willow-leaf.
