If the eyes are a window to the soul, then
all you’ve known is sorrow, and I’d do anything
to carry your pain as my own, but finitude binds me,
and all I see are withered brambles and overcast days,
I’ve learned my lessons from Fate’s cruel rod,
he’s taught me that this story doesn’t have a happy
ending, and though we might admire the Wood Duck
today with its back like a glimmering green river
and its breast like snowflakes on rich clay,
tomorrow, we’ll no longer waltz to the piano’s cadence
on this purple dance floor with little lights like stars
on it, you gave me a home when I was a sojourner,
preaching my truth from place to place to madmen,
pagans and sorrowed heretics, you gave me solace
when I felt confined by dingy corridors without
a shadow of light, where chandeliers lay broken,
and candles melted, you gave me love when
grief rattled me like a tremor shakes the foolish man’s
house on the rock, and looking at you now, having given me
all that you could, having loved me more than I deserved,
exhausted and bone-tired, inundates me with guilt,
I wish I could do more,
I wish I could fight more,
I wish I could give you the joy you deserve
than only be thankful for those precious moments
spent, walking together while an orchestra of emotion
played within us, tugging at each heartstring, tuning every
sentence spoken, adding another layer to the rhythm of
the moonlight, making then touch forever.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2019)

Image credit:

Joshua Fuller

8 Replies to “Dear Edith”

    1. Thank you so much for your kind words G. I’m so happy you remembered Dear Emma. I’m seriously thinking about that chapbook now. I’ll have to write a few more Dear posts first though!

      1. That’s such a beautiful thing to say G. Coming from you, that means a lot. I’m glad to have you as my friend. I will do the chapbook. I already have quite a few poems here. Thank you 😊

Leave a Reply