Beyond Compare, this Love...

Alone she sits.
A notebook in front,
She's been asked
To draw Love.

Fidgeting, exasperated-
She sighs, loudly;
Her father looks up,
Smiles, and ignores the plea
In her eyes.

He's drawing his.
Tracing his palm- he then
Adds more...
... And looks triumphant!

A truth or dare!

Now she has no choice,
And so, hastily sketches,
Colours, while her father waits,
Impatiently.

And they submit
Their work of art
To each other...

The silence of an unspoken
Wonder, fills the room:

She looks at the
Print of a little palm
Inside a bigger one.

And her father?
Awed. Looking
At a rainbow, with a man
Sitting at the end, touching the horizon...
A scrawl to complete:
My Dad
The pot of gold, at the end of the
Rainbow, he's made my life!

But she doesn't need words;
She slips her little hand
Into his,
And looks up.

And Love fills the room.


Usha, 11 March, '08

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One of the pictures imagined in here, (the father's) is not an original:) Inspired by one of the many essays written by Robert Fulghum. This is what he and his daughter draw, their palm outlines, one inside the other, after they meet for the first time, when she has grown into a young lady, having been given up for adoption as a newborn. A touching anecdote from his life, where he calls this his talisman.