The paper boats left behind by Santosh Bakaya
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Image | Oskar Smethurst |
The paper boats left behind
Light from a distant house
tried to enter through cracks into her bleak room.
Why was it so bleak? Why the gloom?
What was the bleakness trying to seek?
She touched her cheek, putting her hands on her ears.
The voice of silence was callousing her eardrums
with shrieks, screams, and howls.
She tried to block out the silence.
Tears? Were they tears? Her dormant fears yawned.
Removing sleep kinks from her eyes, she looked around,
wanting to be embraced by a calm of forgetfulness.
But where was the calm? Where was the balm?
Some malevolent presence was on the prowl, growling.
Lo! Some nocturnal songster started trilling,
filling the surroundings with mellifluous notes.
She was back in her village, sailing paper boats,
her chubby cheeks wreathed in smiles.
Charming nature had once again proved to be the balm.
The healing balm.
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