The hands that once caressed her face
And combed through her hair are wrinkled now.
While she lies shrouded, sleeping peacefully
He all alone, aloof by the side of her grave
Lets his tears flood his face, and soak his parched lips.
The hands that once held her hands in ecstasy
Now sift the soft clay, mounded into a low hill
That weighs upon his old chest
Full of memories, of a life spent together
Amid all those happy moments when joys
Played miracles and made life more sweet
And when time tested with all its might
In some form of adversity, pain and fear
Her lap nested him…..
Now while she lay deep in slumber
Beneath the cool earth, he, scorching
In the fire of separation, insecurity and helplessness
Raises his hands for a prayer,
For her peace and atonement
With a wish to meet her soon.
2 comments:
hi, read your poem just now. its mighty beautiful. Mature and prophetic. Read such a lovely piece in a long long time. Keep it up and all the best. Cheers.
AArefa
And thus the world revolves in all its unfairness, the hands that once were clasped tight are wrenched open by Time. Hearts beating together always, are unable to penetrate the dark earth together...
Yet, as it is said...'tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all!"
Beautiful piece, Poet!
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