The Lake Doesn’t Tell Me Everything

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 In Kumarakom’s tranquil fields I stand,

Beneath the sun’s gentle, warming hand,

Yet shadows linger in my mind,

A restless heart I cannot unbind.  


The lake’s smooth mirror, calm and bright,

Reflects a sky of purest light,

But depths conceal a silent fear,

A whisper dark, too close, too near.  


The hum of bees, the rustling leaves,

A melody that softly weaves,

Yet in their song, I find a trace

Of change approaching-an unknown face.  


My faith, fragile as fragile can be,

A wounded bird, longing to see

The world as safe, as true, as kind-

But cracks and fissures I find behind.  


Memories sting like icy rain,

Trust betrayed, a lingering pain,

Promises broken, silent pleas,

Lost in shadows, on trembling knees.  


Life’s dizzy spin, a hurried race,

Leaves me grasping for a steady place,

To catch my breath, to find my ground,

When all around is shifting sound.  


My gut, a sentinel, speaks with voice,

Warning of danger, of choice-

A sense of dread I cannot name,

A silent guard, a flickering flame.  


Even in stillness, I perceive

A hum, a whisper, a subtle weave,

Alert to shadows, light, and shade,

Prepared for traps that may invade.  


A twig’s faint snap, a sudden start,

My pulse beats loud within my heart,

A whispered plea I softly cry,

“Let it pass, just let me lie.”  


Twitches of doubt, a searching mind,

Seeking threats I cannot find,

A foe unseen, a lurking gloom-

In vigilance, I find my room.  


The peace I crave, a distant shore,

A dream I chase forevermore,

But vigilance, my heavy cloak,

Keeps me awake so I don’t choke.  


If restful sleep I cannot find,

Know I am learning, gentle, kind-

To trust again, to breathe anew,

Until that peace feels pure and true.


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