Find Me In The Sky

For those who live on even when gone

Monoreena Acharjee Majumdar
Soul Bay

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afterlife poem, find me in the sky, photo of pink sky
Photo by Monoreena

One lives in the hope of becoming a memory — Antonio Porchia

I will walk with you like cottony clouds,
Will be the sunflower you so admire,
I Will pour like silvers at night,
Will be the hay stuck to your cashmere.

When you stand in your piazza
Wrapped in a puff-y shawl
ivory bright,
And witness winglets journey
to eternity
Just turn, and see on your right.

On a quite summer afternoon
buried in your dithery pillow,
When letters from the ether
the passing whiff drops,
Know that I am behind the blue,
Listening to your silent sobs.

I will be in those monsoon rains
Mingled in your tear-y ways,
And when curtains will play
with the watery zephyr,
Know, I AM in their game.

You will be on your terrace
by your swing, poetry flowing
through your quill,
I will fall like that Autumn leaf
your diary preserves at will.

I will remain a player in the stage
called life, coming and going
like the Bards quoth,
Find me in that gust-o- fist,
When my steps are erased
from the path we rode.

You don’t say goodbye to some people who cross your path, because they build a home in your heart and live there forever, sometimes without knowledge.For me its my grand mother, who moves with me like a guiding star, wrapping me in her warmth on days of scorch.She is not missed.

I was prompted by Hamsalekha to write about a-mothers-cry a few days ago. Sitting to write the same, my memory crowded around my grandmother, who so fondly stays in my heart, even after leaving us some twenty years ago.So couldn’t stop myself from penning a few lines in her remembrance. Hope I find a day ,when I gather my emotions enough to write on my mother.

So thought of tagging my friends and poets A.H. Mehr Ali Poetic Therapy Rose Lee Sharing Randomly Denise Darby Carolyn Hastings Arbab Z. Gaurav Jain Gurpreet Dhariwal Penelope Mayfield Brown Boi to share their experience/memory of their grandparent(s).

If you decide to write one do tag me for a read.

I also found a beautiful poem by Somsubhra Banerjee veins-of-my-subconscious, where he remembers his days spent with his grandfather.Could not leave without tagging this immensely evocative piece.

Soul Bay,is my own space, which I decided to create, to mark a zone in the Medium Universe, which I would use as and when my soul will cry. Or laugh.
A corner cafe, to snug in with my latte and thoughts.

Thank you everyone for your support.

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