Time is slipping away from our hand
She murmurs
and
remains silent
She waits
in the mournful afternoon’s veranda
Sparrows play with the walls
each spot on the wall engulfs
array of dreams
thud of silence
and
congress of tears
The silence stretches like river
An old lady weaves her dreams
in the bank of the river
with the threads of her remembrance
in each sadness
echoes
every sadness
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16 comments:
This one is very powerful and well written! Thanks. It's 3:00 a.m. here and this kept me awake. :)
Thanks Andrew...the last stanza though was created long back, I was not able to get a poem to my satisfaction out of that. I am glad that you liked it. Its "afternoon" here ha.. ha..
thank u shyamalee
thanks Kai for visiting...
A universal truth has been exposed here - that life is a series of serious events to which we are only privy and understanding of its grand complexities near the end of that great scale and epic journey. Some survive to remember the tale. Others pass effortlessly into the abyss.
I like this, especially this portion:
An old lady weaves her dreams
in the bank of the river
with the threads of her remembrance
in each sadness
echoes
every sadness
so nicely you say it nick...Thanks for visiting...
I am glad that you liked it Aurora...this is a tale of many old Indian Widows who have manythings to share...
It is always a joy to come across a bit of poetry while blogging around, and I am glad that I came across your. I really like this poem.
Thank you David...
I hope you will come again...
it's as if you photographed sadness using words... Thanks, I loved this.
new post...new post :)
thank you Luanne....
it is a long silence for me Ananya as I was in a transition and met with an accident. Will get back soon.
"in each sadness
echoes
every sadness"
Great ending!!
Thank You Pat....
"An old lady weaves her dreams
in the bank of the river
with the threads of her remembrance" Great lines of poetry!!
Thank you Pat.. you re-read it and liked that part
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