On lonely evenings
i sense your presence
despite the long intervening years.
you died on Feb 13, 1978
but are always with me
in a remembering heart.
Like the first rains
after tropical summer
your presence cleanses and soothes
a soul dulled like
the scorched earth and makes
the burnt-out black-brown patches
Some encounters are like that only.
Some days or nights
buffeted by the winds of change
a bit low, solitary, in pain
insulated in your cocoon
in an urban India, indifferent,
we get connected via such bridges spanning
the flow of ceaseless time ---
you and I, again
such rare moments --- fascinating!
a mind capable of resurrecting you
boldly snatching you from the Oblivion
and making you again --- come alive!
Portrait of My Back Yard -- Trevor Nickolls