Whispers in The Air

By Harleen Kaur

You stand frail in tattered clothes

Within the walls of a crumbling stall.

Your skin, rippled like water,

Your hands trembling with hunger.

Your gray eyes are dull and bare.

I hear hollow whispers in the air.

Gazing at you and your weak battles,

I pull a thing from my satchel.

A blank sheet, thick and yellow.

I inhale its musk, its inky mellow.

A pencil rests in my hands, unaware,

I hear inquisitive whispers in the air.

You move about, small and slow,

To help you walk, the winds blow.

Breads, pastries, and little cakes,

With soothing scents of luscious bakes.

You adjust the goods in your lair,

I hear delighted gasps in the air.

My calloused hands glide and whisper,

Sharp strokes and delicate curves on paper.

I draw the busy street, people strolling around,

As you wait, your eyes wide and round.

Their hopeful gleam dulls in despair,

I hear wistful wails in the air.

No one stops at your poor stand.

Its tarp is dirty, its colors bland.

Your offerings dazzle like precious gems,

Rubies, emeralds, succulent lems.

To make a living is a constant dare,

I hear the bereaved blues in the air.

My careful scribbles turn furious.

This cruel world, so empty, so spurious.

I wonder at the people's indifference,

I wonder at their haunting negligence.

Why are the laws of man so unfair?

I hear enraged mutterings in the air.

Your pink anticipation seems lost now,

Your hope drowns in the gutter, somehow.

Heartbroken, in hurt and fear,

You slump into your worn chair.

Even from afar, I see your tears.

I hear pitying moans in the air.

The pencil sketch is now complete.

A diamond of a girl in talent replete,

Stands out among the shadow fleet.

As people gawk, point, and repeat.

I come to you, smiling with care,

I hear enchanting stars in the air.

Your face blooms so beautifully,

A wide grin you give me, so graciously.

You try to stand on shaky limbs.

Your eyes scream with amethyst whims.

I ask for all the pastries you have here,

I hear rejoicing cries in the air.

You kiss the money I give, softly

I show you my sketch, silently.

You hug me close, just like a mother,

I close my eyes in love, so dear.

Your face is wet with hot tears.

I hear euphoric whispers in the air.

Your gray eyes dance in fiery ember

Burning like coals, yet so tender.

"I just lost my son. You’re an angel.

I hope all your desires are fulfilled."

You kiss my forehead, ruffle my hair,

I hear joyous melodies in the air.

Later, I walk through desolate lanes

Gazing at clouds, as soft rain begins.

The tumbling drops land on me.

I think about your lovely treats,

Your sweet face, and close my eyes,

Soaking up the magic of nature’s affairs,

I hear relieved sighs in the magical air.

By Harleen Kaur