A Collection Of Memories

A Collection Of Memories short poem

Photo by The Nick Page

This river breaks
on rocks
unmoving.
Soft music
unceasing
on violin strings.
My heart
plays silent tunes
in darkness.
A picture melts into nothingness.

Gather them,
If you can,
those broken pieces
before
the waves
swallow.
The sea is kind today.

My heart laughs,
When you call, my child,
An amazing feeling
No mother can deny!
Who created this knot
So difficult to untie?!
So strong!
This river swells and floods
Beyond control.
My son, understand, though difficult,
One call, is all I need,
Once in a while
To keep me going.
Deny me that,
I’ll…..a thousand times.
Why did you grow up at all?!

Rains have smells too,
Of dampness and chill, mother’s crispies, grandma’s tea
Of coming home, all wet and cold, little pools flooding the floor
Of dosas on the stove, day-darkness, drying clothes,
A thunder bolt from the darkened skies,
Wet feathers and blinking wet eyes,
Wet grass, swaying tree tops, wet brown branches, shaking leaves, wet white buds, flowers,….
Wish those days came back to me!
Just once, for a little while.

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Geeta Varma

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Now a writer, still struggling. Have been a journalist and a teacher. Love music and the Himalayas. Lived in different parts of India. Married to a writer. Have two sons and a daughter-in-law (more a daughter, new and ready made). I also have a brother and a sister, and four lovely nieces, a nephew son and a little grand niece. I live with my mother and my mother-in-law. All are book-lovers.
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Viswas Menon
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wonderful work

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