Amen!

From frosted windows, I sing a song,
An ode to the grass, to the flowers,
From ice-clad meadows, about life underneath,
From still branches, pretending to be numb,
About buds and birds that have long been gone,
From thick-exhaust spewing cars without which I can’t do
My daily errands, or even drop my kids to school
About carefree walks under warm sunshine,
About jumping high to catch a mulberry branch,
During my daily morning walks,
About nibbling at soft-overripe fruits
From branches that boast heavily of their labor,
From closed doors, from the warmth of my house,
About the plight of the homeless I wonder,
As they putter about in dark subway alleys,
My song turns thus into a prayer,
In thanksgiving for all the warmth that I am blessed with,
For the warmth of my family and friends,
For the warmth of walls, for a roof that I can call mine,
For all the memories of sunshine days, birds and flowers,
There is always something to go back to!
Amen!

Advertisements

Fallen leaves

Pulling up the blinds, my eyes fell on trees. Their leaves; golden yellow like sunflowers, flaming orange like marigolds, bright red like roses, deep maroon like certain withering flowers, and even green. They seemed to make haste. To fall. To break free from what held them together. To fly away, if possible. A deep sense of unrest lent heaviness to the autumn air. I stared longingly at the fallen leaves lying here and there, some in groups, some alone. And then, the sun, like an artist seemed deeply engrossed in filling up vast canvases of grass with its dynamic shafts of light, for a moment here and then suddenly there, a step ahead, and then, a furlong ahead, slowly but beautifully shifting its focus, taking me along.

What is it about them, the fallen leaves that makes me want to look at them again and again? And, when some of them glisten in the early morning sunshine, what is it that my heart longs for? 

It reminded me of home, to which I was bound in more ways than one, from where I yearned to fly away, afar. We had trees aplenty, leaves fell copiously, layer upon layer where I walked time and again. Beneath them I discovered life; throbbing with desire. 

The leaves are fallen, dead or so they said, but to me they were the receptacles of life; fresh and raring.

The leaves; I have always felt a connection with them. They link me to my roots, to my very being, to a simple life back home, to days when trees filled my life with more than just shade and fruits, with perspective, meaning, and depth.