Author's Note: As I grow older I find that there are few things that give as much of happiness as being near your grandchildren does.
The shy shadow of yellow climbs into my cup Urging me to sip the morning nectar instead, Reminds gently how I and my son turned ecstatic To see it define the window signs, at times Made permanent by us with pencil lines. The side walls are empty already as I climb the stairs Leading up to the terrace not only mine but also the neighbor's Opening to a myriad homes, lives and more. The sky, the bougainvillea pink and white in Padahastasana pose, Gyrating petals trio smudging the ground, protecting The peeping anthers and the slim filaments. The tomcat retracting its paw tracing the moving sun and The stillness growing every moment. As I wait for the news of my granddaughter's birth, The breeze stops in between breathing deep, far A siren hoots announcing it to be yet another day.
©2021 Abha Das Sarma
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell her or him. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL