Beneath One's Footprints.

Beneath One's Footprints.
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I seem to cause no foot prints.
With a pair of flat, feeble feet,
In fear of hitting the soil,
I set my feet softly,
I have nothing to carry on,
To pass on or pass over,
My years have flown like
Leaves of grass and petals of flowers.
Neither fore thoughts nor after thoughts,
Have passed through my light mind.
Impressions are the assets of individuals.
I am one among the many,
Getting dissolved in the crowd.
Identity is more a badge for making bargains.
Looking always inward,I am hardly ever noticed
For an interjection of a WOW! or an OH!
I wail not, for what I want not.
After all beauty is also skin deep.
Even history exists only for reference
And not for eternal adoration and celebration.
Immortality is an itch of  the memory
Meant for rubbing of thoughts,once a way.
Death is truly a one time event,
Snapping the leafy and light winged flights of living
Made up of lofty launches, not stuck to the ground.
When the soil winds up the body with its mortal remains,
It mocks at the body, beneath its own footprints.
                                                         P.Chandrasekaran.