My grandmother’s ring


Somewhere over Atlantic ocean 
Enroute Newyork 
Altitude - 33969 feet

My grandmother’s ring 

Today I wear a ring, your hands once adorned
This stone stayed, those hands are gone.
I wish it was the other way round
No silent stone, just your laughter sound.

This wrapped your fingers, 
Through your youth and old age 
In warm life force,
And cold, letting it go stage. 
This dead stone witnessed the life flow in you 
And as I reflect, it shines,  on me too. 
 

Acts  in your life mundane and almanac
It must have held in entirety their meaning. 
Your words, hums and music,  
That ever gracefully flowed
Must have echoed too in this stone. 
In celebrations, as you joyfully whirled 
A pulsating joy in this would have unfurled. 
In trials and tribulations,
As you thoughtfully guided
Wisdom touched it, it wouldn’t be sided. 
Your tender, warm love in engaging 
Must have brightened its crevices. 


What have you passed to me , I wonder? 
May be lifetime of your poise and peace would linger
May be your essence silently holding my finger ....


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