They say,  "Time heals everything."
But for me it is the poem that does it often.
You need not wait for centuries
If the poem comes your way at the right time.
You need not hesitate and beg for another's time
If the poem comes and knocks at your door
And asks, "What is it my dear that burdens you?
Can I help you? I have plenty of time today."

It is then that I walk with her to the riverside  at twilight,
Let her put my head gently on her lap
And show her the stupid wounds that refuse to heal.

Sometimes, she will ask me to cry aloud
And I will wait till the night falls
For I don't want anybody to think that I am silly.

Sometimes, she will tell me fantastic stories
And ask me to tell her a story she hasn't heard.
Often by the time I  wove a story, she will put me to sleep
Only to get up in the morning refreshed as never before!




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