Sitting with my feet in the listless water
I unspool the lanyard of the hours spun
and recall my mother. Her tired face
swathes the orphaned pebbles and crawling crabs
with the robe of fading memories.
They waft over these dim silver waves
polished through the night by slanting sun
I think how is your life on the other side
do you have friends there too? do you float
like those angels they show on the television
We are many gallons of water apart ,
placed on the other sides of a time scale,
my thoughts sailing towards you.
I follow you in your ashes
until swallowed by the Ganges,
breathe prayers over the sound of the gong,
hope to de-crypt the jigsaw of ash and bone
to resurrect you at the horizon of wakefulness and sleep.
But if death is to be, then you are
still wearing that maroon cardigan
and with gray strands of hair loosening out of your bun ,
only the sweetness of your voice doesn’t reach this side