_(14778807824).jpg/737px-Valuable_pictures_by_foreign_and_American_masters_(1916)_(14778807824).jpg) |
Source
The empty chair
The hardened ball point pen
The diary sighing over the white pages left
Rows of eager books on the shelves
The bone-china cup with a smiling Mickey
The brocaded salwar-suit
The Kolapuri sandal
And
The neighborhood birds
Miss her
Stoic rock
Sits on the Atrayee* bank
Unmoved
*A river in our hometown
Posted for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ The Inanimate And The Non-Human
|
Tuesday, 9 February 2016
Different Worlds
_(14778807824).jpg){kind=link}
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Very heartfelt
ReplyDeleteWe remember hoping they too still think of us; sadly there is no sign.
ReplyDeleteThis is very moving, Sumana! So many reminders. I can just feel my eyes moving from one to another, missing her with each glance. And then the rock at the end - a stark difference, well-placed!
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful Sumana... everything about it...
ReplyDeleteVery sad....these objects reminding you of her...a hard road for the one left behind.
ReplyDeleteall those things remember! especially like the ending and the immovable rock
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful and heartfelt poem :D :D Especially love the images of "the brocaded salwar-suit and the Kolapuri sandal."
ReplyDeleteLots of love,
Sanaa
Oh Sumana, I can see those objects missing her. And her mother, looking at them and missing her too. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteI imagine that my diary will be sighing when I leave this world... (thanks for that image!)
ReplyDeleteReading this poem, one can feel the longing for a love one, who has moved away, or has moved on, to another plane. Thank you, for sharing these images that remind you, of her.
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely Sumana. So sad to see everything missing her. My heart is with you.
ReplyDeleteThis is so touching. Beautifully delicate. Loved the poem :)
ReplyDeleteSumana,
ReplyDeleteAll those personal reminders to keep memories in your heart. It's not easy trying to find love and warmth from these objects, but nevertheless, they are a part of the contact.
Blessing to you always,
Eileen
another sad one. I can so relate to this one. It makes me think of my grandfather. taken too soon back then. always will remember and love him. thanks Sumana.
ReplyDeleteI think it was the birds that hit me in this poignant poem Sumana - yes..she is missed by them i am sure..along with many - gentle thoughts to you
ReplyDeleteStoic rock
ReplyDeleteSits on the Atrayee* bank
Unmoved
It takes quite some efforts to get someone to react and adopt a different kind of posture when like a rock they had made up their minds
Hank
This caught my attention especially...I love the idea of, " diary sighing over the white pages" beautiful write. Thank you, for the challenge. :)
ReplyDeleteLovely!
ReplyDeleteAnd so the inanimate carry the history of what brought them there. Yes. And we are not rocks, but feel the pain. My favorite line: diary sighing --I can see the page filled lying over the pages unfilled, book closed, ballpoint pen hardened ...
ReplyDeleteYou infused meaning into the small treasures that one collects! BeautifulQ
ReplyDeleteAll those things touched, caressed leaving a faint whisper behind we just have to listen don't we?
ReplyDeleteThis is such a lovely poem of remembering.
This is heart-breakingly moving, Sumana. The sense of loss is immense and the only way that one can survive the loss is to turn into rock... Stoicism the only recourse and hope for survival for the survivors.
ReplyDelete