There is no one to share my laughter;
There is no one to wipe my tears.
In the waning rays of the sun,
I see the twilight of my years;
Shadows of coconut leaves crisscross
In the fading light like a lattice of memories.
Summer gales have ended
The green tumult of my youth;
I sit in solitude,
As autumn glides in aureate breeze
WIth gentle touches around my face
Calming the bygone vagaries and upheavals
Into maturing reflections
Of clemency and purgation.
In these quieted moments,
The fragrance of dusk wafts in
The redolence of jasmine and nightqueen
Spiced with the pungent lantana.
I look far into the bamboo grove
Where slender trunks rise up to the sky,
Swaying in the breeze, bowing right and left.
I hear the suspiration and sussuration
Of grassy leaves conversing
And I hear the whisper of God
So well expressed in this time of confinement and isolation. By the way, I am very much enjoying the JPL Book Club choice —A Gentleman in Moscow. They will do a discussion via Zoom on Aug 28. Such excellent writing and ways of expressing things, references and different world views Light reading also at this stressful time. Liz
The description of the evening is from the atmosphere around our house during my childhood. In Kandassankadavu.
I loved the ending: beautiful and very meaningful!!!
I checked meanings of the words so many times. The word “sussuration” caught my attention.
These are true feelings.
Sometimes I am mischievous about words.