By Irfan Shah
In the desert of a life aflame
another year-like day
drags its tired feet
to reach a frosty mist-valley
and embrace a century-long night
Where…
to fuel my thought-mills,
I will toss around in bed
and count
every foggy star
every single scar
every standing soldier
every fallen angel
and every day in exile
Where…
to feel like a madman
hating his seven masks
and fighting shadows
in a solitary prison-land
in a land of fog and snow
a land that needs me
and showers hollow rewards
on a high interest rate,
I will think of a motherland
that finds little use of me
but wants me..
loves me..
misses me
Where…
to only get
the intrusive ticking of
a clock unfriendly…
and the silent whispers
of snowflakes dancing in dark,
I will try hearing vainly
every frozen prayer
every forgotten lullaby
every sigh for a son
of a left-alone mother
Where…
to recall
with familiar unease
the scribble of a pen
on pieces of wet paper after paper,
I will imagine
the hesitance and rage
of hurriedly written imploring words
in a first letter to the least understanding
and the most misunderstood of all fathers
and the wishful thinking
of an idealist youth
each word encompassed
Where…
to recall a broken promise
of burning all diamond-worded letters
sent from a fairy-land old
I will think of every letter
I had penned down
on pieces of rugs
with frosty hands and flaming coal
only after pledging
that it would be
the ultimate last one ever
to the mermaid with seven secrets..
to the darling-that-be..
Where…
to wonder about
the fate and extent
of life’s all new creeds..
of amity’s all new seeds..
I will think not only
of all the ‘glitter that was once gold’..
but of that One Friend
who remains engulfed and ignored
in mist and mystery
of all snows of reason;
of all flames of passion;
of all seven heavens;
of all seven skies;
of all seven layers,
of our beloved mother-earth;
Where…
while fearing to find
yet another circle
of an year-like day
and a century-long night,
I will pray and plan
to break every unknown chain
to escape every trap unseen
to leave every riddle of a dream
that guards a self-imposed exile
in a frosty mist-valley
in the desert of a life aflame
and kiss the saline-pearled eyes
of my loving mother
after returning finally
to the bleeding oasis of life
that my loving motherland is.
Filed under: My Poems, Philosophy & Simplosofy, Poems, Romantika , exile, God, Life, love, motherland, Poem
