Elegy for my Grandpa

“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.” Rumi Oils from my lantern of longing still burn, as mamma constantly calls for you. It's raining in mournful melodies, serenading sorrowfully under moonlight melancholy, as my tears reflect in a plethora of painful puddles. In desolate darkness, all I see is your face. I can still hear the echoes of your last goodbye, where you asked to come and see you soon. I resemble the mood of the moon, but my innocent illumination remains intimately inherent. I will never forget auburn autumn leaves lingering, casually covering your granite grave with fresh flowers. I could sit here forever, waiting to hear you call my name.... One more time. If only we could return to your abode, walk along that cobbled path and then sit in your verdant veranda full of vibrant colours. Savour a cup of tea and listen to all your tales, because the birds still arrive, wondering where you are. How those people used to come from afar, now all that's left is emptiness and silence. From nothing you built your own castle, despite so many obstacles placed in your way. You won the hearts and respect of so many, with your compassion and sincerity. Your hands would nourish the sweetest fruits and the most delectable, perfumed honeysuckle. But now they too seem to have wilted away. I'll always suffer from the pangs of loss, but I know you would want me to smile and always spread joy and compassion. I wonder one day when we meet again, will we plant pretty petals in heaven's garden.