Jun 23, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
Awe and Gratitude
©June 23rd, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The two-month old babe who smiles,
Bright and open like a new universe,
At the huge billboard at the airport,
With its smiling female face, all teeth;
The toddler who at 9-and-3/4-months
Teeters along on unsteady legs,
Desperate to be moving, not crawling.
Teaching herself what needs to be learned;
The little girl who tumbles into books,
As naturally as a frog tumbles into water
Finding solace therein; the two-and-a-half year-old
Who sings like an angel, in tune and in time.
The four-and-a-half year old who swims like an eel
The five-and-a-half year old who masters the swing-set,
The six-and-a-half year old bicycling in the breeze,
The seven-and-a-half year old stilting with ease;
The eight-year old dancing Kathak with grace,
The nine-year old who unicycles happily,
The ten year old, braided and solemn,
Who plays The Beatles on her guitar, and sings;
The eleven-year old with bobbed hair, off
To sleep-away camp for the first time,
Away from home for seven weeks,
Wearing confidence like a hoodie;
All of these years of her life
Entwined with mine, like honeysuckle,
Like climbing vines, reaching for sunlight;
All of these fill my heart with awe.
I kneel at the feet of Life and thank it
For giving me this Gift, this fey child
Who dreams, who loves us freely,
Who sings and reads, and plays and thinks,
And I am truly grateful.
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Also, cross-posting to dVerse Open Link Night
Tags: #Awe, #DailyPrompt, #dVerse, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost
Jun 7, 2016 Haibun, Original Poetry
Seedling and Child (A Haibun)
©June 6th (since it’s well past 2:00 a.m., I guess it’s the 7th), 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Such a little matter, transferring little seedlings into bigger pots, and setting them out in the sun! Until this year, my husband did all that. Now, that the garden is entirely my responsibility from start to finish, I found myself approaching it with trepidation. What if I killed a plant while transferring it? What if all this work came to naught? I filled the pots with potting soil and rich compost and a sprinkling of fertilizer, and mixed them well. Playing with sweet-smelling earth is always fun. The hard part came when I had to separate the intertwined roots of various plants (because there were three seedlings in each cell, sometimes more, sometimes fewer). I did so, hoping I wouldn’t break anything in the process. While transferring little seedlings from the seedling starter trays to individual pots, I spoke to them, patted the soil around their roots, and sang softly to them. The miracle is when they grow into tomatoes, brinjals (eggplant), green peppers, and other vegetables. As I do this earthy task, I see my daughter, eleven years old, tall and beautiful, full of music and kindness, still growing. I love how she’s this magical being who came from my body – how did this perfect person come to be? Soon, she’ll go to Summer Camp (and my heart beats a little harder when I think of it, since she’s never been away from home, except for TWO sleepovers in her entire life) for two months. She wants to go, and it’s a beautiful, music-filled camp surrounded by nature, near a lake, and she’ll learn many wonderful things with people we trust. I will not stand in her way.
Little seedling, grow!
Dance, and dream, and court the sun
May your roots reach deep.
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Tags: #Child, #dVerse, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #Seedling
May 26, 2016 Kyrielle, Original Poetry
Photograph@Vijaya Sundaram, 2016
It Isn’t Quite Goodbye, with Friends (A Kyrielle)
(Unintended Farewells)
May 27th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
When you turned and left her to go
And turning, the world seemed to slow.
Did you think that you’d see her again?
It isn’t quite goodbye, with friends.
Love never quite dies, even though
Every word that you spoke was a blow.
Will you return to make amends?
It isn’t quite goodbye, with friends.
Time moves like a wave as it flows,
And waves build up as they grow.
You’ll be swept up by them at the end.
It isn’t quite goodbye, with friends.
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Written in response to the prompt “Unintended Farewells” on dVerse
Tags: #dVerse, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #UnintendedFarewells
May 12, 2016 Free Verse, Original Poetry, The Daily Post
Photograph@Vijaya Sundaram, 2007
Wormhole
(Survival by Chance)
©May 12th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
To reach its goal, sperm swims upstream
Poor little salmon, bursting free from
The urge to be washed away.
If it’s lucky, it’ll survive.
And then, if we’re lucky,
We shall see the light of day.
If not, meh, no big deal.
Someone will emerge from that
Moist dark tunnel, fighting all the way,
To breathe in cool gulps of new air,
Shivering and naked, but alive,
Human and whole, and save the world
Or perhaps, destroy it.
Our future is dark, and we see darkly
But perhaps, we shall find meaning
And purpose, and oh, a wormhole
To wriggle into and out of,
To start out again, anew.
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P.S. I know that photograph is not of salmon, but still … it’s fish!
In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Survival
Submitting simultaneously to dVerse for the first time.
Tags: #DailyPrompt, #dVerse, #OriginalPoetrybyVijayaSundaram, #TheDailyPost