β
It rises again, the frenzied smoke
as the phoenix rises from the ashes
shadows of dreams on the hills
a melange of memories
She speaks in unheard words
poignant with meanings deep
another bird of silence caws
as the breeze swirls and spins
My grandmother told me stories
about the mountains and the lakes
I saw the rainbows of hope
swaying to the music
as the daffodils of joy to the rain
The opalescent sky looks melancholy
as the clouds of Alzheimer's hover her life
perhaps she has not forgotten everything
I hope the moon tells her about me
I keep searching for my footsteps now
smudged in the sands of time
like the proverbial breeze that drifts
but never gets to stay a while
Gazing at old photographs, I keep
the memories treasured and vaulted
a boulevard of thatched moments
a promenade of myriad stories!
β
β