Whispers Of Solace Poem by Anitha Vijayakumar

I returned, a weary traveler,
From halls where words danced on pages,
Dreaming of rest beneath familiar skies,
Yet found my solace tangled in chores.

The walls of home, though warm and kind,
Held tasks like shadows, pressing tight.
And in the rush, my strength did wane,
A fragile flame in the storm's disdain.

Yet amidst the blur of endless days,
A simple note, a kind word strayed,
Like dew on parched and weary leaves,
A balm to a heart that silently grieves.

No grand gesture, no lavish praise,
Just a message, a spark that stays.
In frail moments, it's enough to see,
The gentle grace of humanity.

For even when shadows cloud my path,
And sickness drapes its somber wrath,
A whispered word, a subtle care,
Reminds me someone's always there.

So here I sit, though weak I may be,
Grateful for those who think of me.
In life's great storm, it's the smallest glow,
That lights the way and lets hope grow.