It is a sunny wintry afternoon
the chirping of sparrows
cajole me
out of my honey dreams.
On my cemented porch, I see
a grasshopper
no bigger
than a sprouting coleus leaf.
The green visitor–
brash but scrawny
a tad bit fawny–
devouring
brightly lit leaves
in shades of red and pink
and yellow marigolds
in my dinky field.
Chirping aloud on a full stomach
the gluttonous visitor
goes clacking against my
glass pane door
like an impatient guest
with tea kettle on fire
asking the neighbour
for a sugar bowl.
Tired, it goes silent,
lifeless
it stays on the porch
the breeze turns to wind
but the grasshopper
stands still
I wonder, what it makes
of my blue house and red roses?
Can it not judge my wooden door?
Can it not judge my simple floor?
Can it portend if I have done enough?
Can I share with it my remorse?
I close my eyes, let my mind spring
to questions of wisdom and sin
of lies and happiness
I let my past sink in.
The visitor
brought back so many memories
and soft breeze
caressing my cheek
lullabying me
back to honey dreams
on a sunny wintry afternoon
I gently slip back into sleep.
Latika Sehajpal is working as an Officer in the Himachal Pradesh government. She likes to write and paint.
Featured image: Wulan Sari/Unsplash