Hours
have passed and days have passed,
But I have not
reached my Home.
With throbbing
hearts and eager eyes,
Mystical mind and
murmuring thoughts,
Years have passed
and years have passed,
But I have not
reached my Home.
Virkem,
Tekbatni and Yamberzal,
Perhaps lost to
the baking Sun,
Frolicking snow
flakes romantic fun,
Lucchi, Telwor,
Kehwa, a joy, none.
The meandering
ways, the silvery streams,
Glittering peaks
and Heavenly Whites,
The whiff of
Lakes and song of Birds,
The thought of
home hangs like swords.
The Chinar shades,
the Willowy breeze,
Blissful blues
and earthly Greens,
Ambrosial Pines
and nurturing fields,
Yet I am far from
my general Home.
The Magical land
and mystical Man,
Nestling Mother
and affable wife,
Open Windows and
open mind,
Just a thought
puts me in a grind.
Bustling woods
under terrorist guns,
Bulbuls lost,
their whistling Runs,
The chant of Koels,
anthem of nuns, |
In
the cemetery of lenity, Mom's sons.
Political ends
and personal Chairs,
That have thrown
me into jitters,
Ever will they
feel yearning pains?
God knows when
healing rains.
The thoughts
shiver like fluttering waves,
Snaking through
the meadow graves,
Distorted
cultural rainbow rays,
By spineless,
insipid, Extremist Gays.
Ascetic azans and
temple rings,
Waiting in wings
to lustrate winds,
The murky Lakes
& trembling brooks,
Torpid
Kingfishers & Daffodil blooms.
Riders fall and
ride again,
Wounds too heal
again,
It is hope that
takes them through,
Only those, run,
do reach their Home.
Milestones may
come in way,
For events may
have a say,
Glacial streams
do make a way,
However steep the
boulders may.
Wheel of Time
does make a round,
Thunders are
followed by silent sound,
May not be me, my
future will be,
Safely landing on
Homely Ground. |
Previous
Article
