We Are Here For You


Reluctant with myself 
a tinge of abhorrence
intensifies.

I set aside the chores,
a mood of contemplation,
is on the anvil 

Of late, I go into moods
unknowing I succumb
to exasperation.

Fresh milk curdles, 
food turns stale.
I lie awake.

Doors remain closed
curtains are drawn 
days turn dark.

Hours pass. I recline 
in my bed gazing 
at the roof.

Rise up to a harsh 
knock on the windows,
with a struggle. 

Pull the curtains
find it is the wind,
while about to pull back,

I could not withdraw
from seeing the 
garden.

The yellow rose 
puts up a warm smile, 
the red poppies nod affably

white lilies beckon with grace
the huge Neem tree 
bows in obeisance,

all of them seem to say
” we are here 
for you.”

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