Wednesday 23 June 2021

Hands in my hair

 


I can’t begin to count the times I feel

your shadow in between me and the sun,

shaped and adjusted minutely to shield

me from the scorching midday explosion

when the heat haze shimmers on asphalt and steel -

a small bubble of coolness,  just a smidgeon,

though I can’t spot anything in the distance.

 


I feel your hands braiding my childhood hair;

on my forehead, soothing away life’s migraine.

I hear you call my name, though no-one’s there

when I turn - a passing stranger, or the rain

or just an inexplicable rush of air.

Our paths will never cross again on this plane.

But knowing that makes hardly any difference.






16 comments:

  1. I have heard my name called. It is comforting.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sometimes it's a solace, sometimes it's shattering..

      Delete
  2. '... soothing away life’s migraine...' Brilliant line, but you're always brilliant Nila. 'I hear you call my name...' also an experience I've shared after the loss of a loved one. Thanks Nila as always for your words.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Many are hearing their names called by a lost loved one right now...it's been a hard week. Thanks, Denise.

      Delete
  3. it's a sense of loss, of parting yet never getting too detached. As if they are there right next to us for one moment, then they are gone, the very next. Memories becoming shadows, still accompany us forward. Beautifully written.. May this love remains forever..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Bhavana. Memories are all that are left in the end.

      Delete
  4. Hari OM
    For me it is white cotton sheets hanging on the line and playing hide and seek... Such stuf is the tapestry, is it not? YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Each of us has different threads in that tapestry.. Hugs.

      Delete
  5. You put into words so much that I can't express. Lovely poem.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks, Joanne. A lot of it still lies 'too deep for words.'

      Delete
  6. Your expression of loss is beautifully illustrated in the poetic words of Hands in my Hair. And I feel your pain without the words.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Dear Nila - such an expression of the love we continue to remember ... I don't hear things, but always remember their words and approach to life. You beautifully bring thoughts to life for us ... I do hope things are easing for you. With hugs - Hilary

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hugs back, Hilary. Everyone has a different set of memories and ways to draw upon them, but the underpinning emotions are common, isn't that sort of marvellous?!

      Delete