Thursday, 10 March 2011

When She Remmembers You

Like Zoraster lit fires for what he sought

I burned pyres in solitude but it came naught

Like you, once Magus, when you hailed this day

But I was cold, homeless, with nothing to say

She misses you even though she sought

Hope from you but it came to naught

As you sometimes Hulked up, green and muscular

When your unruly compass hit displeasure

She remembers the early moments she had sought

Spark in your farsi eyes, but it came to naught

Sometimes I wonder which one of us bent

Her dreams and which one us most laments.

You poured whatever your nomad mind sought

Made me something other than a naught

But the Nomad-fathers had tribes to trail

I, Sadiq, am set on a skiff with no sail.


Ali A. Naqvi

No comments:

Post a Comment