REQUIEM

REQUIEM

Sitting by my window, I reminisce and remember...

How I'd lost you during the monsoon thunder shower!

Your memories are snapshots on thin ice…frozen!

They shimmer crystalline, aureating imperially golden!

And unforgotten they remain

Fragile! As a daisy chain..

I guard them closely, like a last cookie crumb

But when they audaciously seep through unawares, to briny droplets I succumb...

Nostalgia bathes in the late afternoon sepia light

When you and I sipped steaming cups of tea chamomile…

Autumn limbers in with a soft serenade in all her bridal finery of reds and gold,

Reminding me of all my bountiful days of glory old

The October winds whisper their crisp russet songs and melody

But, it's your sweet nothings I yearn for, it's my only remedy!

Your stories had my heart melting, your wisdom warmed my soul

Your sadness carved my feelings deep, your joy made me whole…

On solitary evenings, my soul ventures into the jewel-toned wilderness realm

I've lost my anchor...my ship... and also my helm!

I walk in the fall rain, regaled with a bounty of towering flamed foliage abound,

Soaking in the crimsons before they become mulch on the sable carpeted ground.

Singing grieving lullabies, heart broken trees like me, stand tall and bare,

They shed rainbow tears dissolving into the quilted bed ochre…

I remember guitar-strumming under cloudless autumn skies

Bonfire evenings with you over warm laughter and fresh pumpkin pies

October is my orchestra and symphony of leaves fluttering,

Hope flickering in the honeyed golden realms like a fire crackling

Sitting in front of a fireplace, sipping your favourite mulled apple cider or cocoa with cream,

Aroma of cinnamon-vanilla cookies wafts from my kitchen like a dream.

Woolly socks, plaid blankets are thrown around to snuggle into

As I watch the soft-spun clouds and fading rufescent sunlight outside... without you…

Nature hibernates to preserve the acorns and holly-berries

Until spring brings another bountiful cornucopia along with a fragrance of wild roses and cherries

I miss your warm embrace, you made things better

I wish I could hug you longer and tighter…

Grief though intangible is tucked away into corners, they stand tall like soldiers in full glory and glimmer…

Luminescent in hard to reach places like a shimmer of glitter

It will soon be another Christmas without you; sadness is rife…

But seasons come and go, so do phases in life.

Can we relive all our beloved moments again?

After we reunite for eternity in heaven?

Comments

CHAPTER 1: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This post is Chapter 1 of short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. Tasseography is as old as time. The stories in the tea leaves will leave you in a spin, while the healing tea that precedes it anchors you like gripping oak roots. Every day for the next seven days, Xiu-Ying will welcome a new traveler seeking refuge from their heavy burdens, reading their futures in the settled leaves and guiding them toward peace as the seasons shift on the ridge. Welcome to The Jade Shambhala Tea House! CHAPTER 1 EARLY SPRING Ko-San Tê Bai Mudan (White Peony and Red Dates) The morning mist in the rolling hills of the 1980s Taiwanese countryside did not rise; it dissolved, burning away into thin silver threads under the persistent warmth of the early spring sun. The Yun-Shan Ridge grew f...

FINALE: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

FINALE The Gift of the North Wind The morning sun over the Yun Shan Ridge always arrived with a slow, quiet patience, filtering through the thick pine needles until the mountain mist glowed like pale green silk. Inside the Jade Shambhala Tea House, the iron kettle was just beginning to hum over the hot charcoal embers. Lin Xiu-Ying sat at the long wooden counter, her hands wrapped around a warm clay cup, listening to the stillness of the forest. Three winters ago on a night when the mountain was locked in a fierce, unyielding blizzard, the wind and the sea had their own ideas. ***** She didn't choose to board that trading merchant boat down in the southern spice ports. She was just a tiny, silver-white kitten, shivering behind a stack of cinnamon crates...

CHAPTER 2: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This is a part of a short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. 7 days, 7 stories, 7 different exotic tea blends from the Far East and unique tea leaves reading for each. Welcome to the tea house! CHAPTER 2 LUNAR NEW YEAR Kim-huan Tê ( Golden Lily Oolong) The early spring air hanging over Sian-Phô village was heavy, smelling faintly of spent sulfur from the Lunar New Year firecrackers and the cold, sharp scent of wet pine needles. Up on the Yun-Shan Ridge, the festive red lanterns hanging from the eaves of the low wooden cottages were damp and water-logged, their brilliant scarlet dye bleeding slowly into the persistent gray mountain mist. The holiday had just ended, and while the rest of the village was settling into the quiet hope of a new agricultural...

THE BIG BAD WOLF( DAY 17, LETTER T)

CHAPTER 16 THE BIG BAD WOLF The pigs snarled like proper rascals, fixing their cold steely eyes on the Wolf's cottage. How dare he refuse to part with his cottage! When the pigs demand, it's given to them---no questions asked! Porkinn limped, Baconne was soggy, Swinedell rubbed a sore bump on his head, but they were far from defeated. Swinedell snorted, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Wolf thinks 'e's posh, don't 'e? " Baconne sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "We want the cottage!” He growled. Porkinn cracked his fingers, his sly glance darting about. The pigs crept towards the back door, their footsteps silent on the soft grass. They spotted the Wolf through the kitchen window, stirring a pot of steaming stew for dinner. They kicked the door in, the wood splintering jaggedly. The latch gave in....

CHAPTER 3: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This episode is part of a short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. Tasseography is as old as time. The stories in the tea leaves will leave you in a spin, while the healing tea that precedes anchors you like gripping oak roots. 7 days, 7 stories, 7 different exotic blends of brew from the Far East and unique tea leaves reading for each. CHAPTER 3 SPRING EQUINOX Tang-hng Bí-jîn (Oriental Beauty leaves) The morning mist on the Yun Shan Ridge does not merely roll over the peaks; it breathes. Right in the middle of the Spring Equinox, the rigid spine of the winter chill finally breaks, replaced by a tart apple blossom aroma and streaks of sunbeams lancing through the budding Magnolia tree in the centre of the garden. The slopes of the mountain are alive with the pale pink of wild peach blos...

Sangeetha Kamath

Search This Blog