And She Sleeps – 9 January 2015

The shrivelled marigold petal and a tiny leaf
Hide their grief
Under her small wooden temple lying sadly
While outside the wind blows madly.
On this coldest day of the season
They curse this unbearable treason.
The orphaned bulb in the temple mourns the blow unfair
Her silken , elegant saris watch silently with a forlorn air.
The trees head bang, and sing a dirge
Her tiny sandals with the wall try to merge
Tired but happy
Of having left footprints for us to walk on
Who said she is gone ?
Hush, hear the curtains merrily rustle?
Is she standing there?
In the distance a mother sings a lullaby
I sigh
The winter chill creeps into my bones
Freezing my moans.
I snuggle into her bed, draping the notes
Of another long forgotten lullaby around me.
As though obeying the notes of the song ,
On cat feet ,through the curtains the breeze creeps
While the world sleeps
I feel a touch of soft fingers
Which lingers
On my forehead.
Mission over, she departs , soft her tread.
Slivers of memory, bird like. ride
The dancing branches outside
Of the tree that she had planted
Undaunted, they sway with an ecstasy unexplained
And my tears flow unrestrained.
The show must go on , someone says
And through the daze
“Hush do not cry child ,”
There is a reprimand mild .
Is it mother?
My tears I smother .
She smiles down at me from the photo frame
As the breeze and the boughs play a nocturnal game.
The wind sloughs a sad verse
And in my memories I immerse
Which light up like firewood dispelling the winter chill.
I lie still
Ears pricked to more long forgotten notes
Which sail along perched in tiny paper boats
Of a mummified age
Ah, I continue to rummage.
And rummage
Clinging to these warm straws
Slowly the night withdraws.
And out of the dark womb
Is born
A new dawn

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