THE RAVEN OF THE FALL
I am not a stranger,
Just a migratory in the season of fall.
But, to be honest,
I’ve seen a strange world not quite fair at all.
The harsh winter will come soon
And I have no time to waste.
I have to gather the fallen twigs
To build another nest.
The winter is harsh,
But this world seems harsher for mankind.
I am fortunate that God gave me wings
To fly away from the unholy unkind.
I have seen many a thing
Happen devoid of God’s grace,
I have never shivered such even in a snowstorm
As I did acknowledging man’s distress.
I’ve seen small kids in Gaza
Roaming among running bullets and blasting roar.
My heart wrenched as I flew past over a small dead boy
Lying on the Bodrum shore.
I heard the wailing mothers of small school children
Mercilessly shot in Peshawar,
While the heartbroken fathers dig their graves
In a bitter silence of horror.
I flew across the Java Sea
Where the debris of a broken flight floated,
Notwithstanding of its destiny
The family of its boarders have long waited.
I’ve witnessed a son in the flood of Gaurikund
Struggling to search the near ones in the raging wave
And at last he stood still holding his mother’s red shawl,
The only thing of his drowned home that he could save.
My bleeding heart sore
As I passed by a crying infant lying in dust.
There was no one to pick him up
As the town of Sindhupalchowk crumbled into crust.
Yes, in a way, I am benefited
Than the poor mankind
Although I can’t save my babies
In the frosty stormy nights.
Though I’m a negligible existence,
Just a mere creation,
I doubt the scarcity of my brother folk is the effect,
Not cause of such destruction.
But still, I survive and keep on flying
To reach the land of green,
To gather the twigs for my new home
And my babies at spring.