Spread Petals

By Dr. Bhavya K.G

Today I spoke to her,

the quivering voice of lonely soul.

Doubtful eyes not looking into mine.

She grew up in some distant home.

With noises of happiness filled,

and dreams of little girls rejoiced.

She awakened by her man,

The need to be given away,

She walked with little jumps,

Her dreams tied in her saree.

Many seasons later,

She sat near me and held my hand,

Lips so tight, that words saw no light.

Her hold so warm, not peaceful.

Because peaceful is what she forgot.

In that old house with noises.

By Dr. Bhavya K.G