Backwater Song
they said to remember crawdads
asked me to listen for their song
when my heart was heavy
and my sorrow dark
but I was young, too young
and memories clung to
bark and thistle left behind
now it’s time I know
to retrace my steps
into that forest
slowly, cautiously, though
eyes closed, feeling only
with my hands the way
I’ve walked before
my senses know better
than my eyes
travelled roads
I reach the backwater
past the labyrinthine path
pain and anguish in my heart
and hear at dusk
the crawdads’ song.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
Enveloped in twilight mist
they are known only to him -
Until I can fly . . . as the sun goes down
and waves come closer
with the rising tide -
life spills . . .
forming red rivulets in sand
in the vast desert
man’s fury against man
reasons I do not understand -
spring has come
and gone
summer breeze nudges
dense foliage to dance -
they said to remember crawdads
asked me to listen for their song
when my heart was heavy
and my sorrow dark
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Retracing in Nature is healing, I believe, my dear Neetu.
Yes, it is, Nana. Thank you for commenting.