It’s Time

There is still beauty in my life,

Other than being your wife,

It's time to stop crying,

And pointlessly sighing,

Over what could have been,

Or what should have been,

It’s done and dusted,

Even your ashes, that I dug out, must be well adjusted,

Inside the Banganga Tank,

If I have to be frank,

I only have myself to bank upon,

I doubt my tears, have provoked, even a simple yawn,

From you, while you sit tight in heaven,

I’m no longer that naive girl you married at twenty seven,

I’ve come a long way,

Since then, I will no longer allow your death to weigh,

On mine or my child’s mind,

It’s time to boot you out ruthlessly, from our hearts and minds,

I don’t know, if you could have fought your death,

What I do know is that, my child and I have many, many breaths,

To live and re-live,

So it’s up to you, to stand by us spiritually or just leave, I think it’s time to sieve,

The lifetime I spent with you v/s the vast lifetime I have left,

Time to let you go and unburden my chest.