The Indian Association of Palliative Care celebrated this year’s World Poetry Day by publishing ‘A symphony of Words: A collection of poems‘ penned by our very own friends from the palliative care community. We continue to share a poem, each week, for our friends to enjoy!
The poem for this week, Poem #14 of 25..
‘Make you smile, in the last mile’ by Dr Samudyatha U C, Kolar, Karnataka
Just a little more..
I do not know where the path leads,
Where the turns, bumps and humps are,
For this path is destined to your heeds;
Yet, I will nudge you; just a little more..
Your favourite white lilies line the path,
Calling out to you for a sprinkle bath.
Here, let me hold your bag for a while,
So that you can shower them with your smile!
Ah, what did the lilies say?
With joy, did they sway?
Off we go on your little woody way,
To walk together till the end, where it may.
I see you bent with the bag on your back,
Dragging yourself, with all your might along the track.
Your eyes search for the warmth of woods green,
Let me hold your bag, while you breathe in the pristine.
Around the corner, the beautiful stone house-
Songs of your children, in longing prose
Every word, every letter singing your name,
Let me hold your bag, so that you join them in their game.
Here you are – did they tell stories you missed?
Did they tell you that you were missed?
Off we go on your little woody way,
To walk together till the end, where it may.
I wonder what it must be,
To carry a sack like this be,
Tied at its neck, content and purpose unknown,
The sender and receiver unknown.
Yet, I will nudge you; just a little more..
Oh! The voices of your friends-
They are dragging you to their dance
Give me your bag before you go-
Dance around the lake at your stance.
I know that you would much rather
Bury the bag under the lilies you gather,
Or burn it in the house in a fire grate
Or throw it down the lake, if it were not too late.
You ask me again if I know the way,
I don’t know how it began or where it ends
I walk with many people like you,
Every time, the paths are different, just like you.
Wait, can you hear the sea?
A low rumbling wave as it hits the shore?
Do you think we are there – you must see
Is it the shore where you set down the weight you bore?
I will be nearby till you need me,
As you empty the bag into the blue sea-
Letting out the rock to sail, to be lost.
And now, only the memories of the path will last.
About the poet:
Dr Samudyatha U C is an Assistant Professor, Department of Community Medicine, Sri Devaraj Urs Medical College (SDUAHER), Kolar, Karnataka. During the course of her work, she has developed a keen interest in palliative care.
To read poems from the entire collection, please click here.
That is so beautifully narrated , I loved the lines, …’.You ask me again if I know the way,
I don’t know how it began or where it ends
I walk with many people like you,
Every time, the paths are different, just like you.’
That is beautifully narrated. Loved the 10th verse,. Perfect reading
Wow… It reminds me ‘Solitary reaper’ by William Wordsworth. Great pain is covered by little joy. The ‘bag’ that is being carried through out the journey may be an indication of those hardships which no one can share, how eager the companion may be….