Sunday, January 20, 2013

Sense


I look into your clear eyes and see right into your soul
I listen to your laughter that is louder, fuller, purer than the ringing of temple bells
I touch your smooth skin, wondering at its perfection 
I taste the salt in your tears when you bury your face in my neck for comfort
I smell the sweet scent of your baby-breath as you struggle to tell me how you feel. 
I struggle to tell you how I feel. 
Do you understand the word Blessed?
One day you will. 
When you’re old enough to understand, I’ll be old enough to explain. 
Until then, I just look, listen, touch, taste, and smell. 
And suddenly, the whirling exhaustion of my jaded mind doesn’t matter. 
Suddenly, it all makes sense.

5 comments:

  1. Oh Yashodhara..... your poem makes me want to cry....
    I can feel that lump in my throat urning to explode into tears.

    Beautiful... just beautiful!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hi y...i shared this pg on fb...much appriciation there too...loved it.- Mini

    ReplyDelete

Hi there. Go on, say it. Well? WELL?