Journey’s End
©May 12th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Little things:
The smile that leaves an imprint in the air
The nod of greeting branching my way
The question that arises from thirst
The answer that comes from a quenched place
The dog back on her feed, after sickness,
Whose face shows her former mischief
The child who tries to please, and fills
My heart with an aching joy,
Who learns and spins and dances,
And sings and advances into maturity,
And retreats into childhood,
When the fairies call.
The husband who makes it all work,
Binds our wounds, makes the appointments
Grows our food, fixes our house,
Loves and gives and forgives,
And occasionally grouches, as do I.
These little things
Make my blood sing.
And make my orbit steady
As we swing towards
Journey’s end.
Journey’s End
May 12th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Little things:
The smile that leaves an imprint in the air
The nod of greeting branching my way
The question that arises from thirst
The answer that comes from a quenched place
The dog who is back on her feed, after sickness,
And whose face shows her former mischief
The child who tries to please, and fills
My heart with an aching joy,
Who learns and spins and dances
And sings and advances into grown-up-hood
And retreats into childhood, when it’s all too much.
The husband who makes it all work,
Holds it together, makes it to the appointments
Grows our food, fixes our house, loves and gives
And occasionally grouches, as do I.
These little things
Make my blood sing.
And make my orbit steady
As we swing towards
Journey’s end.