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