Life! Let Thy Velocities Speak Not This Much. Poem by Ravi Panamanna

At ninety, hale and hearty,
But life has no warranty.
My graph began to finally confide
And to bed I gradually got confined.

My wife saw to my routine
And in a way I was fine.
My son was away,
Dollars led him his very ways.

Phlegm began to block my lungs
My days began losing their tugs.
My wife was yet hopeful
My graph to her appeared not deceitful.

She waited till my last breath
She troubled not her son until my death.
He was busy attending a conference,
Beyond Manhattan, his horizon was not enough.

An eclipse of a week was his request,
Till then, a freezer was my impending fate.
In his view that was very modest,
Okay – with life this was my last tryst.

I accepted, I had no other choice,
Immediate release was a remote chance.
When dollars have their say
Life can only sway in this way.

Till man is taken to the funeral pyre,
Body is a sort of nightmare.
For everybody, be kith and kin,
Such presence is not fine.

So was it planned, I reached mortuary,
Life seemed to be a sudden mockery.
Here, I am waiting for his arrival
Here, I am facing a great upheaval.

It seems to be an endless night,
In this dark cell, I lay and reflect.
“Am I only a parcel for the final dispatch?
Life! Thy velocities are copious, man is in a wrench”.
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05th April 2013