Surging Winds Poem by Ravi Panamanna

IN MEMORY OF MY FATHER

This is the end of my road;
The end of my sojourn.
Beyond the Nila, this fabulous river,
My dales are only the whispering fields.

Here, where the waters are ever cool,
Where Nature is calm and serene,
I am given an eternal rest,
I am given to my own roots.

Roots- I am listening to my winds,
Roots- my native haunts are not far off.
To these umpteen hamlets I belong,
To my forefathers’ cradle I return.

Yonder in the North is a railway station;
The whistle of life is in perfect continuation.
Upon these banks is an ancient temple;
In these burial grounds is a languid silence.

These waters are my eternal theme;
These playgrounds are my perpetual call.
Here is the lasting whisper of my heart,
Here is the parting of my many decades.