“A Lullaby of Love and Light”, A poem by Ignatious Antony, Sleep, My Daughter
Please close your eyes now, my little one.
Do not cry.
Let the night hold you gently.
Feel my arms around you,
not just as flesh and bone,
but as a sheltering sky,
as the earth cupping a young root
against the cold breath of loss.
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In a minute A man rose toward a hill to ask a question to God. “What is a million years?” he asked.“A minute,” God replied. “A million dollars?”“A penny,” said God. The man smiled into the moment.“Then may I have a penny?” God nodded kindly.“Of course. In a minute.”
“The Yes We Never Said”, Poem by Ignatious Antony speaks about a quiet kind of love.
It reminds us that not all feelings need words.
Sometimes, a smile carries more meaning than any answer.
The smile in this poem is not playful or casual.
It is a sign of acceptance, trust, and emotional safety.
Between two hearts, it becomes a silent agreement to stay.
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Signed by Time – A poem written by Ignatious Antony on the theme of , growing older is not about losing anything important. It is about carrying proof that life was truly lived. Every line, every change, quietly shows the work of time and the strength of the journey. What seems to fade is only the outer surface, while meaning settles deeper within. The body becomes a gentle record, saying without words that the soul walked its path with patience, honesty, and courage—and reached this point whole.
The Chair Before the Door A chair left facing the doorkeeps expecting a shadow,like a cup holding warmthlong after the tea is gone.The room breathes slowly around it,walls listening like old relatives.Dust settles the way memories do,soft, unquestioned, and faithful.The door stands upright, like a paused sentence,each hinge remembering a hand.Time moves past the chair
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Every festival has two stories, the one we celebrate, and the one we carry silently It was an Onam day. The sun was already high.Morning had passed quietly for the girl. She had started early,before sunrise. She walked through small lanes and open roads,carrying a basket of flowers on her head.Jasmine, roses, and small yellow
“One Complete Year” The carpenter came seeking a chair,a place for a crown to rest,but the forest breathed like an ashram at dawnand offered him a life instead. Among many trees standing in silent prayer,their trunks dark with prayer,he chose the oldest teak,Aged like a rishi who had watchedmany suns rise and fallWithout asking their
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The Tree That Asked for Spring: The carpenter did not cut the tree at once; instead, he lent it time, and the tree learned to live its entire life in a single year, like a book finally read with attention. When the axe was ready, there was no grief left—only gratitude, as wood that had known every season offered itself without regret.
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The Room With One Window Joseph Mathew was admitted to the hospital just before midnight. At that hour, the corridors were hushed, as if even illness had learned to whisper. The fluorescent lights glowed softly, not harsh like the daytime ones, but tired—like they too had seen too much suffering and were trying to be
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A Perfect Speech, One Minute Too Early I still remember that evening very clearly.It was the send-off meeting for our parish priest. The meeting was fixed for four o’clock in the evening, which in village time usually means anytime between four and five. Everyone knows that clocks move faster than people in the high ranges.
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