A word and feeling that rolls back a million times <br />Eluding its true meaning; evolving into new feelings. <br /> <br />As a child it was the warmth of mother’s bosom <br />While dozing off into sleep. <br />Father’s sad smile when forgoing all comforts <br />For our sake; in the prime of his youth. <br />The cold hands of my friend on my temple <br />While hallucinating in the delirium of typhus. <br />The mighty Lord Siva in the temple <br />With whom I shared my little secrets <br />And my patented hatred for teachers. <br /> <br />In youth it was the smile of the girl <br />Who tried to cross my path in vain. <br />Lone mother waiting at the front door <br />For the return of son; long lost to fate. <br />A glass of water from a faceless Indian <br />After a long walk in the summer sun. <br />Blake’s poem and Segal’s novel <br />Silent presence of my Master <br />Who answered all questions with his mental vibes. <br />Decaying flowers on the tombs of birds <br />Who flew away from the perils of existence. <br /> <br />Now <br />It is the firm grip of my kid on my finger <br />When he is fast asleep. <br />My sad smile when I forsake <br />Life’s pleasures for his sake. <br />Cold hands of my wife on my forehead <br />Consoling me from life’s defeats. <br />The eternal dance of mighty Lord <br />When he talks to me through the <br />Creeping warmth of morning sun. <br />Feels me through the soft hands of new born baby. <br /> <br />The feelings never end <br />The meaning is never clear.<br /><br />Raghavan Warrier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-397/
