I gather some fallen flowers,
Spread a milieu from death,
Of life and thereafter,
Where miseries thrive not –
A vision wished to be acknowledged.
A little errand of mindfulness;
Grass seemed pleased.
Pleased, only to my eyes.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
In the many unanswered questions of “why me”,
A mother who lost her son to time factor,
Left alone to fend for herself,
Couldn’t still hold herself responsible
For the miss calculations of life and dependence.
Expectations turn painful
While fear takes away the confidence;
Why blame anyone
She says, ” that’s my karma”
And her pain eases.
As she lies down to sleep,
All I could hear was a soft snore.
Copyright(c) 2016, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Matchsticks scattered around
At an untimely moment,
Having spilled out
Off the carelessly opened box.
Fingers plied aimlessly
Gathering into a pile
The little wood with coloured head
Dormant to the world.
A few broken halves felt cold,
Calm, as it seemed
My touch indifferent
The candle burned in memory….
Copyright © 2016, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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