this time, last year

this time, last year

i remember this time, last year
when the full moon of vaiśākha bloomed in the spring sky
and you were by our side.

sometimes i think how i’ve learnt to live in your absence
i think of death. and how it’s married to life.
i’ve felt how when it seeks kindly, submission can be unmiserable.
it sought you kindly. at the end of a beautiful life.
perhaps why, i haven't mourned you.
i don't miss you sadly. i just miss you.
i’ve come to know how death can be a different kind of friend from life.
whenever it may come into our lives, i ask for it to come like a friend,
whom i can embrace with peace and let nudge me close to life.
i pray for its kindness always, as i pray for life’s.

some other times i’m engulfed by death’s surrealness,
a thousand questions and its divine power.
how small and incapable we are in its wake.
my soul bows to it and once again asks for its kindness.

.

in the evening, saanjh and i burnt incense
and offered our obeisance to buddha
i told her of his birth, and how his reverence for peace
makes him mine and her nana’s spirit god.
later, as we stood admiring the full moon,
i hoped, at that very moment it was blessing upon you too, wherever you may be.

. . .

saturday nightfall
the twenty first
vaiśākha