Photographs arrive

by the morning post

Of Grandsons and Grand daughters,

In a year or half

Somehow……

But they, don’t

She awaits, anxiously

with baited breath

 

As she stands at the threshold

Of a half open door..

Right across,

The fragrance of the Harsingar flowers,

Float past her surpassing

the dust and smoke

like photographs from Yonder lands,

Or like hearts, bonding images

 

She warned herself

Lived they lives so comfortable,

What would they do if they returned?

Words defeated her

Deep within

Is it not true

Materialistic desires

Selfish cravings

Have divided

Homes and hearths

Todays , truth

Lies in solitude

Encompassed,

Gaping,

at the fleeting present.

                                                             ~Dr. Usha Rani Rao

                                                               Bangalore, India

                                                                     Translated in English by Dr. Kavita Shastri