“Pasture” – Nayana Nair

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The forests I have burned to land
is now a green pasture,
with flowers too beautiful to have a name.
Though the land has forgotten
the pain, now lost.
The fire still blazes in my heart
every night.

12 Comments

  1. Sometimes your peoms makes me speechless
    No comments or words to express how beautifully you make them
    Please do write book . I can’t live till then
    Well as usuall nice poem Γ‘ayana πŸ˜€πŸ˜€ πŸ˜€πŸ˜€

  2. The land with no memory, blooming in all glory. May be a little Jealous is invoked, of the lack of memory the land has. Truly, I struggle to bloom again, with the burden of knowledge of how cruel this world can be. Then I am asked to believe, the God who died for me forgets my sins and moves them as far as the east is from the west. When will I forget the failures I have had? Not to mention the failures I have put on to others?

    Is there hope? Is there healing? Is there a path forward? Is life just a funnel of trouble that will end in my death? Is there any hope? What vapor is this I live? I think you have got it right. Yes, I too am crushed by what life endlessly dishes out indiscriminately.

    In THE struggle,
    Denny

    1. I can totally relate to what you say.
      We are in fact jealous of everything in nature that can rebuild itself from destruction and with time leave no trace of what has past. If only our lives and we ourselves could be like that, then the hurt we carry would reduce. And it is not only how we have ruined ourselves or the world has put us through, we are also haunted by how many a times we have been reasons for someone else’s tears.

      Sharing your struggle,
      Nayana

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