Whispers

The journey was placid,
Through the meadows and
The lush green countryside,
The bus moved smooth….
Greenery all around,
Under a light blue sky -
But the wind carried,
A melancholy tone;
The mother spoke on,
Words of wisdom,
Of years passed on,
The daughter lay sorrowful,
A heavy head on a heavy shoulder!
The clock ticks on,
Soon it will be November,
As festivities buzz around,
Few know…. reality as is –
The clock ticks on,
As all cling on, to hope,
Things will be fine,
An assurance to pacify,
The heavy minds, sigh!
Things will be fine,
The wind whispers by...

- ഴൊഎ ക

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