Dec 18, 2015 Original Poetry
Fare for the Ferry
(Prompt: Farewell; Poetry, Day 10)©December 18th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
Goodbye, I said to the clock in the room
Goodbye, it whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said to the shadowy gloom,
Which said, “Oh, please come back to me.”
Goodbye, I said to the leaning tree
Goodbye, it whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said to the vanishing sea
It said, “Oh, you’ll come home to me.”
Goodbye, I said to my much-loved books
Goodbye, they whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said to the Time I took
The clock just smiled and ticked at me
Goodbye, I said to promises made
Goodbye, they whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said to the roles I played
But they dissolved in mystery
Goodbye, I said to the fish and the birds
Goodbye, they whispered back to me.
Farewell, I said, but nobody heard.
So, I cut the threads, and rose up, free.
And when I arose, and was borne aloft
I floated till the air grew soft,
Till it bloomed into streams and carried me
Where a boatman stood to ferry me.
But I had no coin, and I had no fare
I had to return, and descend the stairs
But I tripped and fell down athwart the skies
And now, I’m a dream behind your eyes.
And, now I sing, Farewell to all
The night is good, it hears my call.
Farewell, I sing, and go to sleep,
And I will weave you dreams to keep.
Just carve me a coin cut from the moon
I’ll give it to my boatman soon.
For I am weary and need my rest
I’ve loved this life, now comes the test.
No, do not weep, and do not moan
No, do not wail and do not groan.
It’s sleepy-time now for my soul
And time for me to be made whole.
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Tags: #Death, #Freedom, #Life, #Writing 101, Poetry, Boatman, Charon, Coin for the boatman, Day 10, Dreams, Farewell, goodbye, My 2nd Poem for Day 10, Rest
Dec 3, 2014 Awake in Dream Time - Journal Entries about the almost real, Original Short Stories
Water, Wifi, Rest, Knowledge
©December 3rd, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Genre: Realistic Fiction/Current Affairs
Word Count: 100 words
“I’m scared.”
Don’t be. We’ll take care of you. And we have books.
“My father’s out there. The cops hate us.”
I’m sorry it has to be like this in our town. I’m sorry you have to worry. We’re here. And books are your friends. We’ve got water, wifi, rest, knowledge. Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.
“I’m afraid to go outside. I think, I’ll be next. I keep practising what I’ll do — hands up, pray, anything. Will it work?”
We can only hope, children. Dry your eyes. The books will teach you. Come.
And quiet calmness took hold.
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(I’m VERY late in my response to last Wednesday’s Friday’s Fictioneers prompt. I was too shaken up by the events in Ferguson, MO. This Library picture made me want to weep, because I remembered that the library in their town was open for any children or families who wanted to be in a safe place among books. Today, I was able to write about last week’s prompt. If you’re reading it, do forgive my lateness.)
P.S. I just contributed to their library, which apparently had a spike in donations after they stayed open on the day after the Grand Jury’s decision not to indict the Darren Wilson.
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Water, 100-word original short story based on a photo prompt, Darren Wilson, Ferguson, Knowledge, Michael Brown, Missouri, Rest, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Wifi