Village and I

Life in the village is what sustains me still

But moving out was a necessity

Hard in the beginning

Soon questions of settling down arose

Village is ruled out for many practical reasons

Fondness and attachment give way to

Questions of existence

Village is now part of a beautiful nostalgic

Dream, no chance to regain

The charming aspects have all gone

Long since the well has been used and cleaned

It is a dangerous pit rather than a well with its

Inexhaustible cold, sweet water

Weeds grow from the sides hiding the view

Of the watery circle below

Reflecting the sky in its scary but enthralling manner

No water is so refreshing and trustworthy as the water

We brought up from that dear well

Now a relic evoking pain and memories indelible

The pond in the fields where green frogs

Sat on the grassy banks camouflaged ,

Basking in the sun, their protruding eyes closed partially

Is not there anymore, nor are those plantain trees and

Pepper vines, it is sort of wilderness

Life has drained off the fields

The master is not there to tend

And marvel at the flourish

Plants refuse to grow, weeds cover the land

Life is changed for good or for the worse

Time will reveal but essence is gone

If only the goodness of the past could

Mix up with the present and make it

Fuller, more satisfying

Thus wiping away nostalgic longings

Making survival more like living