Flowers

Every day I wear the same garland

Of fathomless pain around my neck

Made of flowers you once gave me

One, two or a handful at a time

They were really flowers back then

Fragrant, colorful, delicate in my palms

That gave vivid pleasure to my senses

And a blissful, lulling peace to my mind

Now they are like hard, heavy stones

A burden that I can just barely carry

Lighter in the distractions of the day

But heavier in the loneliness of night

I know it may be too much to expect

For you to give me fresh flowers again

But could you just, if only once, gift me

Some withered leaves and dried flowers?

Joyfully I will carry them around all day

And use as a pillow while resting at night

When it’s time to take my final leave

They can rest with me, ever and after

Suresh Nair
6/3/2016