Afterwards

The pain comes much later, first
in trickles, then in torrents
Washing off, cleansing
Wounds, hurts, the memories
The thoughts of should-haves
and should-have-nots.

First to heal are those
festering, anger for
What they did -
and did not.

Then, those of regret
of what you did -
and did not.

Then, like a sunbeam
breaking out through the clouds
The realization that everything
carried the fragrance of love
In spite of all
There was always love; love
lingering in the shadows.

Then comes peace
Within.

**** Bala Chandran, 24.07.2019

To Meera Nair, remembering your father, my friend, Murali Dharan

Painting: The death of Casamegas. Pablo Picasso