Entreaty

The armchair is still empty.

Awaiting the return of
curious n' eager eyes,
fighting a tense battle
in sterile environs
with a certain unseen enemy,
an infection,  for over ten days...

Where are those frail arms
that click photos,
pluck off my withered leaves,
ensure I get enough water,
that give me a fashionable trimming
now and then and
gather my flowers for prayer?

Where are those caring arms
that drive away those insects,
ensure my upkeep,
bring in those chemical free nutrients
to keep my soil healthy?

I've been waiting long for your return...
for those witty armchair conversations
we've had in  the company of
the mynahs and the squirrels.