Sunday, February 14, 2010

Bon Voyage

From a traveler, to a traveler.

[Somewhere on that long wrong road,
Away from home,
I’ve gone astray,
Have lost my way.

In my dream it rained…
Rain that carried the snow away,
Piece-meal into crannies –
The white white snow,
Losing its religion,
Merging into water.
The fair cocksure landscape,
Coloring into rivers of confusion.]


Some stretches on that road,
[That long wrong road,
Winding away from home]

Will be gray, others green;
And some will reflect,
The bright summer sun;
Mischievious mirages –
Full of furniture of home.

If you ever reach them, touch them,
Between your fingers feel them;
Call my name –
The smoky shadows in this strange land
Might then,
Be imbued with palpable substance.
I might then begin to trust,
The warm breath of a silhouette,
Forever following my feet.


Feb 13th, 2010.

1 comment:

  1. 'From a traveler, to a traveler'

    very good.

    "I might then begin to trust,
    The warm breath of a silhouette,"

    Loved the use of trust here. Almost as if willing but not quite till the magic happens.

    Liked it a lot Madeeha.

    ReplyDelete