My Grandfather And His Walking Stick
Conversing the events of life
The crescent moon with a red tinge
In the night of dark spring
My Grandfather continuously gazed
At the radiant red night sky
Whispering his thoughts in silence
Listened by the walking stick which stood by his side.
Walking across the corridor
I heard my Grandfather’s muted voice
Neither did he rendered me a beck of call
Nor did he signaled indication
Me and his walking stick;
Reflected upon like his shadows; unseparated
Through which our voices connected.
Silhouette; of the early morning hours
As if the rainbow showered a colorful spell
Embraced upon by my Grandfather; delightfully
His eagerness for the radiating rays
Kept him desperately awake;
Romanticizing the bliss of his fairytale; of
My grandmother envisioned as his soulmate.
There was something; but peculiar
Uneasy, uncertain, and inexplicable
For it lacked words, yet the meaning conveyed
My Grandfather’s Walking stick;
Who happened to travel unparalleled by his side
At sudden; extremely felt jealous
With my Grandfather’s romantic fairytale.
The backyard of my village encapsulated entirely;
The bright shimmering rays of the sun
Walking along with my Grandfather
As part of my morning ritual, forgetting not the stick
The journey crossed miles,
Not realizing how time flew by.
Trekking through the rail tracks, grasslands;
Pastures and miniature gardens
The conversations among stretched diverse wings
Where the grazing of the cow; followed by
Butterflies flutterings; birds chirrupings
Caricatured beauty in the simplistic events of life.
His walking stick guided the steps;
Embraced nature’s beauteousness
At times hurt by the pebbles along the way; however
Largely cherished the journey —
As the stick essenced my Grandfather’s embrace.
Nature voiced its uniqueness
Where words of my Grandfather; signaled
Flawless knowledge with insightful wisdom
I and his walking stick touched heaven
Where his walk accompanied featuring —
The rarest of life lessons.
With undeterred spirit, the walking stick progresses
My grandfather and I tried setting up the pace
His thoughtfulness clicked wise sayings; of
Nature-Life-People-Growth-Decay-Survival, whereby
A focal point of his words mentioned a fact; signifying
Natures laws act as governing principle
Through which the cyclical events of life revolves.
On completion of the journey; time ahead
The dusk sets in enveloped by an orangish tinge
My grandfather with his glittered eyes, eagerly
Waited for the bright twinkling moon to appear
His thoughts echoed in the gentle silence
Of the old memories; dusted off by him in darkness.
My Grandfather’s Walkingstick, forever
Symbolizes his silence voice;
Unsaid, unheard yet deeply felt.
