Portrait

Your forgotten eye

Blinking

Watching my bony palms.

Your faded face

Unclearly

Overrunning most of my memories.

Your white gown, on you I can see

Renews me

Like at first time.

I  haven’t looked to your portrait.

Encircle by flowers.

Till now

I could have remembered the longing voice

And can ask

‘Listen

How do I

Say things I wish to?

You could have nursed little guts

And waited a little more

And would have listened

 The sounds of my inner music

‘Every day

I  struggle to recall your Himalayan face

Like a tortured soul

Yet I pretend untroubled

to look fullness.