Dedicated to my grandma Mmaniks

Day after day
she sits on that rocking chair
and stares into the emptiness.
Completely lost,
drifting slowly along with the
flow of the wind.
Many-a-times I wonder
what's the day's topic
whether it's different from
Yesterday's.
Her expressionless face
torments me.
Only the emptiness
knows her worries,
her fears
and her secrets.
Because it is in emptiness
she feels comfortable.
It is here she has trust.
It is here she is not judged
and it's here she is
unconditionally accepted.

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