When Home Dies!

No! I don’t turn back anymore, to see if they have called,

They have stopped uttering, that name from their mouths for long now,

I have forgotten the walls and the alleys too,

That was once familiar grounds, the place is clogged,

Somewhere in time, time that doesn’t tick anymore,

The faces, the voices all seem to be slowly disappearing,

Yes! It’s been long my orphaned ears have heard,

Their voices, it is now a dream place where I visit merely in my dreams,

Where all seems known to me, much like an older home to me,

Yet I feel I haven’t come back, I feel I’m lost in those known rooms and walls,

I stand there like a stranger, trying to find recognizable faces,

How bizarre! I walk past the ones I have seen, yet I don’t feel welcomed,

Their tight lips and irksome eyes stare me hard, I feel lost again in that tavern,

I keep looking for you, and I see you standing right,

At the end of my dream, holding the scarlet sun beneath thy arms,

You kept probing me in those waters of the most standoffish tavern,

And when I woke up, you carefully placed that sun over my forehead,

Saving me from my darkest qualms, that takes me more often to that place,

And so I didn’t turn back this time not even in my dreams,

I know now ragamuffin daughters are not called back to home, by any names,

When home die in their hearts, and seldom have they felt alone!

But they find love, a lover’s arm which reminds her more often,

She had come home long back, away from another of their Westminster Abbey,

That seemed less glorified and more of a burial ground…

~Monalisa Joshi~

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