My father knows when
the crocuses are out
And when the snowdrops
and when the bluebells
and how to listen, carefully,
to the nesting birds
trilling,
between our rooms.
Daisies will come
and roses will grow
and perhaps we shall walk
and reminisce about the snow
and kick up some leaves
and weave up some dreams
while the world passes by
my father and I.
© Shaista Tayabali
(Dverse Poets Open Link)
Dad fell hard on the concrete pavement outside our house, broke his femur and had surgery a few weeks ago. His road to recovery is long, challenging and filled with his extraordinary light.
the crocuses are out
And when the snowdrops
and when the bluebells
and how to listen, carefully,
to the nesting birds
trilling,
between our rooms.
Daisies will come
and roses will grow
and perhaps we shall walk
and reminisce about the snow
and kick up some leaves
and weave up some dreams
while the world passes by
my father and I.
© Shaista Tayabali
(Dverse Poets Open Link)
Dad fell hard on the concrete pavement outside our house, broke his femur and had surgery a few weeks ago. His road to recovery is long, challenging and filled with his extraordinary light.
7 comments:
My best wishes for your father's complete recovery. My father always knew the same things
How awful for your father. Hope he feels better soon.
Glenda
I wish your father a speedy recovery and gets to kick up some leaves and weave some dreams very soon!
My prayers are with you. This is a deeply evocative write.
Love your poem. Prayers for a full recovery. Falls can be life changing.
Oh I hope that he will make a full recovery... the reference to crocuses made me think of the fact that they should be planted now so we can enjoy them in spring.
My best wishes to him. I can see the bond you share with him❤️
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