New Poem – Home


This poem was first published in Peacock Journal   edited by W.F. Lantry and his team. Do browse the journal for some excellent work.

Home

the shadow of the Oak trees
lies heavy on the grass below
no life stirs in the green expanse
that stretches until it meets the sky
with its cargo of clouds

along the distant ridge of hills
dust rises from a winding road
that looks lazily down upon
the slowly moving river
that crosses the land

along that road is our house
the house we loved and shared
until the day we drifted apart
now that lonely house waits
hoping again to become a home

If only I could ……


The book of life is brief
And once a page is read,
All but love is dead.
That is my belief.

And, yes, I know how loveless life can be.
The shadows follow me, and the night won’t set me free.

The deep voice of Perry Como  floats with the cool early winter morning breeze . It’s been a week now that I have been lying awake gazing at the glow stars on the ceiling of my bedroom, awake and nostalgic.

Memories fill and make my heart heavy and if at all I close my eyes I go back to those beautiful times as a teenage girl. Remembrance of the time spent together exploring places, singing songs , lying under the clear blue sky or just silently holding hands and gazing at each other  comes back to me as a deluge.  We lived in different cities , lived a different life or at least pretended to live and then suddenly you were gone. Just like that.

You sang to me when we found time and the lines  from Perry como’s song ‘For the good times’

” there’ll be time enough for sadness when you leave me ”  haunt me now.

The memory of first love is a bitter-sweet symphony. Now I look back think what all could have happened if only ….

Sitting by the window I watch the colorful dust motes dance in the early winter sun and  think that the only reason we endure the pain is because the only other option is to be alone.  I feel the warm stream of tears roll down my cheeks and press my face against the pillow .  Although it hurts sometimes we still feel something  even if it is only our own two warm arms wrapped around the soft pillow when everyone else is so cold.  Pain that bitter fruit we got to eat for the nourishment it gives.

When sleep begins to heal and mend my heart I feel your presence. Is it because  they say death brings people closer than what they were when alive. I go back in time and tie all the loose ends. I become the child in my Grandma’s home where we found  love.

The little things we did , those stolen moments of sheer ecstasy, love that had many shades but had no name . It all remained unsaid but not unexpressed because many a times one doesn’t need words . Silently the eyes say it all.

We were first cousins after all.

Summer love, stardust and fireflies

The coming together, the brief stay, the parting and then  your death.

Teri Yadd Sath Hai

Last year was tough and now two years later the ebb and flow of pain continues.

If  I could turn back the time

If I could find a way

If I could reach the stars

If …