Sacred tulsi leaves whisper in Asha’s grasp,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Like prayers murmured, awaiting the Lord’s soft embrace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Yet, in the new digital world’s distant click<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her children’s absence, a quiet, unsung ache.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jyoti’s basket, a splash of colour as the day awakes,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Each fragrance, a memory of decades past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Intonations of prayer, like incense, drift on morning’s breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Two doors ahead, Babu’s voice, timeless, deep and resonant\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Karma,” he intones, as winter’s chill creeps to his weary knees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Age is grace,” his cherished refrain, “honor it like a crown.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His pranayam, a rhythmic beat, 2-8-4, filling lungs with life,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Though now, his empty chair cradles only silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the breakfast hall, idlis drift like pale morning moons,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Another day’s offering, vada or pongal, a gentle grace on the plate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The daughter’s call from Bangalore, a sweet song calls,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The heart yearns, yet the ties of his friends hold him dear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Brigadier Narsi’s tales, of war and profound wisdom,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Reverberate with the patriot’s pride, the camaraderie of brothers-in-arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Festival season unfurls, prayer and vermillion adorning the commune,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Invoking the Gods to share in the music and the dance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Between the morning’s scattered pills and devotional rhythms,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Voices intertwine, chanting a thousand names divine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
While in her quiet room, knitting needles dance with silent grace,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Can winter truly be far when festivities fill the air?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Eighty is the new sixty,” a joyous declaration in the crowd,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The fitness ground bows to the Colonel’s unwavering command.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“When is the next walkathon?” enthusiasm brightly croons,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even as diabetes numbers are weighed like cherished cricket scores.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Each day, a new dawn, a fragile gift to cherish,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Each sunset, a whispered prayer for the frail and the weak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Life flows like the sacred Ganga, gentle and pure\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And in this home of silver years, hearts still beat, infused with hope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Each soul finds solace in tales gently shared,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Each morning whispers \u2014you are among loved ones, you belong, you matter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Disclaimer:<\/strong> By Sacred tulsi leaves whisper in Asha’s grasp, Like prayers murmured, awaiting the Lord’s soft embrace. Yet, in the new digital world’s distant click Her children’s absence, a quiet, unsung ache. Jyoti’s basket, a splash of colour as the day awakes, Each fragrance, a memory of decades past. Intonations of prayer, like incense, drift on morning’s … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7457,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7456","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-covai-blog"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\n\t\t\n
All content on this Poem, including text, images, and other materials, is the intellectual property of the author unless otherwise stated. Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or use of this content, in part or in whole, without prior written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited. For inquiries about permissions, please contact info@covaicare.com<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mr V Krishnan
Covai S3 Retirement Community<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"