The Journey Back
An eon slipped by-
by Usha Pisharody
In that moment
The manic laughter
stilled on his lips,
as her gazed upon her.
Her, whom he thought
the unkindest hands of fate
had snatched, just to spite him.
And there she stood - so pure, innocent,
A young lass - the same eyes
The self same flush, deepening her cheeks.
The wildness of his eyes didn't scare her
Neither the hunger of his gaze;
Calm and serene she stood, willing him to peace!
Gently and fearlessly, she stepped closer:
He flinched, yet nearer she went.
Stretched out, and took his wrinkled hand in hers.
A rush of emotion swept through him
The tide could not be stemmed;
It seeped from every pore, a cry of anguish!
He found words, and tears again,
The eon of darkness, had now slipped past.
And tumbling forth were all he held in his heart.
The words he groped for came fast,
Incoherent, wild, ecstatic and endless.
She stood, deluged in his love, finally content.
My precious, my precious, a chant it seemed.
That helped to ease the loss, the endless yearning;
And all the while she stood, with simple heartfelt love.
Now he knew, he hadn't lost all, when she left;
Now he knew, why he didn't fall, when she fell
Into that pit of darkness, the emptiness of nothingness!
For here she stood again, in her
gifting him words again, words he thought he'd never hear!
She spoke, gently, tenderly, 'Father, shall we go home? '
4 August, '07