[to J]
you walk down the steps
that lead to the banks of River Ganges;
amidst the sonorous beats of temple bells
and chants of mantras by priests
you wait to immerse me,
now a fistful of ash in your palms
scatter me over the ocean
let the salty breeze serenade me
before i fall like confetti;
float on those rippling waves,
sink to their hidden depths
sprinkle me under our
cherished red frangipani tree
in our front yard;
radiant and passionate,
let me sleep mingling with the scent,
as i become one
when i die....
Copyright © 2011 by Mamta Madhavan- All rights reserved
0 comments:
Post a Comment