She weaved among the grieving with a tray in her open arms
On it were handkerchiefs of her grand mothers
One by one,each picked up beauty in their hands
and wiped away the tears that re-appeared again
Antique as kindnesses shared like loss
She turned a crowd in to individuals
Each one holding kindness in their hands
Life comes like tears ,then flows away again
Each came up to the microphone
shared memories,loves,incidents one by one
holding grand mother's handkerchiefs in hands
to wipe away those tears that will appear again
For grief is made of water and salt tears
It is never far away /we fear its insistence/seek relief
Soaked in grand mother's wisdom antique handkerchiefs
Our time here is brief..
No comments:
Post a Comment