To My Ancestors

I shelter from the rain
under the roof they laid.
I stand safe from
the storms
inside the walls they
erected.
I own a beautiful house
I admit I did not build
and the prosperity the
heaven would
pine for
and that, too, I never
earned.
I sit by the ancestral
window
and watch the rainbow.
I sit on the ancestral
verandah
observing the Clouds
Fair.
I wake up along with
the dawn
and look at the hills
crowned with snow.
in the evening I, too,
attend
the assembly of the
stars.
at night descend
princess dreams
warming up my
bedroom.
and I cherish
their company as if
they are all mine.
The wind knows my
address,
the wild birds do know.
the sunlight knows of
my yards
painted all with love
primeval.
the aged postman
knew my address
long before I did.
my identity,
and place inherited
are known to so many
foreign to me.
Also, I own a lovely
yard
of flowers I did not
plant.
also, I have a kitchen
garden
- Manu Manjil