The song of the wind

The wind whistles softly,

Over the cold sturdy rock.

The names carved in stone,

Witness of their existence.

Words assign them equal.

In graves they lie in peace.

The only companion, being 

A lone chirp of the sparrow.

Withered flowers remember, 

Aromas that honored the fallen ones.

Forgotten sighs lie,

On eternal beds of stone.

An old lament can be heard,

The lullaby the wind sings.

On fading

**

Musky, woody, manly.

A dash of citrus and lime.

Lingering in the air around her.

His fragrance fades with time.

**

Image:Taken from here

The truth

He discovered some truths on her death

***

A silent reminder
A chance encounter
Proof of existence
A constant companion

Your daunting gaze
Her shallow look
Departure it was
Those years ago

Now so surprised
He's her soul
Child of heaven.
Bliss of shade.

All these years
He suffered alone.
Childless by choice,
Choice of neglect.

Now his saviour,
She's gone away.
His child discovered
In her death.

***

On Mother's Death

He saw the world through her eyes
Those eyes, they held his world.
For none could compare his love for her.
In her lap he'd stay curled.

In his life of ten and two years,
He had her beside him always.
I'll be with you forever,
Fear not my love, she says.

Her strenght he knew to be inside,
Wisdom filled those eyes to the brim.
She ever wore a stiff dress.
Her manner so neat and prim.

She could be stern to the world,
She could have perhaps been harsh.
But when he stood in front of her.
She turned but all into marsh.

She lay there resting in utter peace,
A calm look upon her face.
Whose lap would he keep his head on now?
How would the world he face?

She'd told him not to cry,
Not ever to shed a tear.
For now she said, through his eyes, 

she could see him face his fears.

***

Image: Painting by Pierre Renoir

Mother's cakes

"Don't go around frowning", she said.

I wondered at times how they turned out so.
So perfect and moist.
Filled with tender love.
Oozing out in each bite.
My mother's cupcakes.

"Bake me something delicious.
Whip out the anger.
Create something beautiful," she'd say.

Today she lies in peace.
Watching from a place up above.
Remembrance hits me, as I whip the batter.
That's where the fluffiness comes in her cakes.
Now I know.
**

Image: Me ;)

You become death.

You're travelling very far,
When shall I meet you again.

A chance for goodbye,
You didn't give.

You'd wave back in warmth,
Every time you left.

What happened then?
What happened now?

So sudden your departure,
So hasty your leave.

Did you not think of me.
When last did you breathe.

As I shall remember you,
The kindest man I've met.

Death becomes you.
You become death.