A Frog, A Rock in shower, and A Stream of shadows...

It is so good while it lasts,
but nothing remains, when its past...
History leaves its leaves in past,
only stories pass on...

The brief moments seem from an other world,
but you linger ahead,
in same old song of clouds...

Upon the skies,
and amongst the streams of flickering shadows,
some brighten, and go back,
flow past, and you stay,
like a frog, jumping,
from a lone solitary rock to another one...

Never sticking at a rock for more than a while,
knowing - the more you stand,
the more you slip in that shower...

A friend of mine taught me this song,
gave me a moment of shelter,
and here I slipped,
and she is gone...

It is so good while it lasts,
but nothing remains, when its past...
History leaves its leaves in past,
only stories pass on...

Here I linger,
but the story passed me on...

Yet I smile...:)