I’ve seen grass and I can see that it’s the summer of conversations.
I’ve been there recently. The grass is gold, reflecting the sun. Shining in rich colours though it is, it betrays the lack of nourishment. Water surrounds in abundance, but where the grass wants it, there is none. People who have once spoken with gay abandon have taken to the protective shade. Under the wide circular trees that are still green – God knows where they get their water from – but under their shade they all rest.
But they are quiet.
It is still the summer of conversations.
In that cool shade they just want to be one with their thoughts. Or perhaps their fears. Some of them aren’t bothered. About anything. They are happy just to be there. You would imagine if they were happy and relaxed they would speak a bit. BUt that doesn’t happen. They stare down the valley that I carpet.
And they are quiet.
It is still the summer of conversations.
I’ll wait for the monsoons.
This is poetry! The beauty of conversations without words…The happiness experienced in silence…
Welcome to Gaizabonts, Deepa. I think I know you, even though I believe this is your first comment here. Thank ye!
And a second thank you, for not ‘orphaning’ this post – else it was going to live a lonely life without any comments!