By: Vanaja Malathy

Where have they all gone?

Where have all my dear and near ones gone?
their memories heal and reinvigorate my mind
and at times stifle and sting my heart.
i feel I am standing in the midst of a barren land, all alone.
the world looks blurry
and I have no desire left to feel worthy of living
frail and weak I lay on the bed
sans enthusiasm and energy to face the world.

Soft and beautiful fingers grip my palm
lift me carefully
walk me forward
on the rugged paths
on the snowy lanes
on the sandy paths
I look up to see the face of the kindly touch
the soul of support

It’s the pretty face of my granddaughter
a young beauty, a smile of an angel
a complacent countenance
the little one whom I walked
a few years ago holding her tiny fingers’
who gaped in awe and
clung to me for my endless stories
giving me proud moments to have been her support.

Today she stands as my pillar of strength and courage
my zeal to live returns.
God smiles and cares through the family and
extends His Divine touch to heal loneliness.

###

Treasure lost

My adolescent grand daughter
came back home from her visit
to the prosthodontist
for a cosmetic correction.

With flushed cheeks
and swollen eyes
she looked piteous.

we thought the ordeal painful
gave her chilled ice creams
hugged her in succession;
the mouth being plugged
she barely spoke.

All on a sudden, a burst of wail
her sobs sure increased
tears flowed into rivers
leaving us all dumbfounded.

The tooth doctor had plucked a couple of
unwanted teeth from her jaw
to carve that pretty smile on her face
and presented the teeth in a cute little pendent
to wear it around her neck,
alas, the numbed patient found it missing
the locket of her treasure.

Her sorrow knew no bounds
we promised her a necklace
with her birthstone locked in
and plenty more she would cherish
but to no lure of her mind.

A bright search in the car and the clinic-
she found it at last
to our great relief.
she jumped in ecstacy
adoringly wore the necklace around her
and darted into the street
to show her friends of her bounty.
The teeth that had shorter life in her jaws
found a smarter tombstone in her pendant.

Reminded me of The Glorious Dead
Who finds a preeminent place in the Cenotaph in Whitehall.

###

A doctorate in English and an educator for decades from India.. A smooth drift from academic writing to Poetry writing. Vanaja Malathy considers poetry as her fabric of existence, poems to breathe and as a vent to her emotions. She also loves to paint, sew and read.

Her poems have appeared recently in The Nightingale Poetry Journal, The New-England Monthly Poetry Digest, The Poet’s Showcase, Poetrynation.com, The New International Poetry Digest, and The Literary Yard.

 Her Interview in the latest edition of Author Talks is published in The Literary Yard at