WHAT YOU SAY?
Looking for safe place
To keep Your memory
I travelled a lot and found out:
That,
Sky was unsafe, clouds chirrup
Mountain unsafe, mist meddle
Ocean unsafe, fish forbid
Earth unsafe, worm whine.
Biggest of biggest hold
Bane or bug-likes inherit
Smallest of small hold
Little space or air to swallow.
Then I saw a peasant passing by
A Red silk wrapped urn on shoulder
I followed him, asked what it is.
“It contains my heart,
Her ashes
Wherever I tire and fall
Her ashes will spread,
That place is my Ganga” he said!
Stood there rock still I.
See, other than that raw earth urn
Which was once used to put ashes
Break, merge or mingle with earth itself
What remain safer, holier than
Than this unknown Saint said?
Now my mind find solace, calm
So I now make my heart a Urn
And place Your memories in
Irrespective of where you stay
Or, my dear, what you say!
Prepared Angela Kosta Academic writer, poet, essayist, literary critic, editor, translator, journalist
