Silent notes from Serenity

Silent notes from serenity


Last year the morning had come

Bearing old boils and new blisters,

Slicing up the skin of the day like

A butcher pounding meat into pulp

A never resolved problem bled again

Bursting with regret like poisoned

Blood and the horns of my enemies

Rose up again to gloat over my space


Like those thugs in very bad Hindi movies

A walk to the friendly shop down the

Road might help, for it is a mini

Heaven that always seems to have anything

You could possibly want at any hour of the

Day or even late night! But today for once

They were short of dosa batter I fancied

For breakfast! That seemed to add a new

Cut to the insoluble infections inside

The heart and the soul, a never ending

Whining against God and Heaven, if they

Ever exist, began to shudder against the

Skin of the soul and the heart, and the

Day drooped into a descent so worrying

It made me remember I had that well in

The back of the house, to fall into! Just jump!

Then the garden came in the way, and I fell

Upon the four African Violets, two of them

Had begun to bloom, a dark blue beauty and

A calming cream flower that went deep into

My throat like cool, fresh lemonade and sugar!

Then the cat Maska meaning Butter, who had

Sneaked into my house through the hole under

The mesh, and had blinked so beseechingly to

Be admitted, she could only be named Maska had

Settled down plump as pudding on top of the

Most generous fern I owned, perhaps to check

If it could hold the wait of a cat the colour of

Shortbread straight from Scotland! As addictive as

Short Bread! always so irritatingly happy, for

No reason at all, that she made me guilty of

Carrying all that gloom and gruesome slime

Inside like wasteful, unhelpful, soiled bandages

That bled into everything like infected blood and

Gave nothing back in return but more boils!

Then I picked up the new bottle that washed plants

With very little water, and sprayed it over the four

African Violets that had come to life after six months

Of spouting only disappointment at me like rodents

Then I bathed the ferns and the polka dots and noticed


The four creepers I had planted six months ago had now

Formed a glorious coat over the garden gate and a very

Calming carpet over the mesh above, so that the tiny

Harbor of scented greenery looked out at the day and

Changed its portfolio from sour pitiful pounding pain

Into something resembling a new recipe of radiance and

Restoration, hopeful rummaging inside restful wayside

Taverns that await us when we have decided to let go!


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