Their Love

It’s noon, well and bright,

The breeze is in, going around

Taking the trees on a ride,

The sun is out, happy and content,

Shining bright though the thickets,

Lighting up patterns on the ground,

Beneath thick canopies of my Jamun tree

 

It’s as if there are many others with me,

For, in the wind, shadows dance,

Hopping and tottering like restless squirrels

 

I must go in for a nap,

My body feels the advent of age

My joints ache, my heart too,

But the reason I know not know,

 

I must go close the yard gates

The wind loves to swing the fastened gates,

At times, they wouldn’t give me peace at all,

The wind; it rattles the iron chain on the gates

Metal clanking metal; takes me to my past

When little children made merry

By banging metal spoons on metal plates.

But they aren’t there anymore with me…

 

These noises in my life;

They are disturbing, and peace-depriving,

But they keep other distractions at bay

 

My loneliness I forget on cheerful afternoons like this

While watching shadows

And when the wind attempts to take my clothes

Away from the clothesline

My clips keep them secured, but they do attempt

To tease my strength and my thoughtfulness

 

When there aren’t many reasons to get up

The birds are at my bedroom window,

Calling me out to see them at play,

It’s their way you know,

Of the sun, the wind and the birds

To give me company

It’s their way of telling me that I am not alone

It’s their unspoken language of love

That keeps me going

It’s the reason for old-age days

To wake up in the mornings.

 

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