Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Final Farewell to My Father: A Poem by Abhay K
Rajendra Singh (1945-2006) |
Final Farewell to My Father
By Abhay K.
I wait at the banks of the holy Ganges
while my father travels his last journey
I eagerly wait to see his face
to capture the last glimpse of the light
that brightened my path since I was born
His body will soon be consumed by holy fire
and his soul will merge into eternity
The holy Ganges will carry his ashes
into the vast blue oceans
and there he will rest in peace
The light that has gone out from Earth
now will shine brightly in the sky
and when I'll look above each time
I'll see him smile
I wait at the banks of the holy Ganges
for my father’s arrival
to bid him final farewell
I feel blank, how it all happened so fast
My eyes swell with tears
I want my father, I want my father back
He doesn't speak, he would not speak to me ever
He would not smile when I would return home
I know this meeting is different but it just feels the same
Father, you don't know how long I waited to be with you
I had secretly marked a park in Moscow
where we would go everyday for a walk
be it summer, winter, snow or rain
but see I am here
waiting at the banks of the holy Ganges
wondering how should I say you goodbye
would I ever believe you are gone
I must be strong, I am your son.
while my father travels his last journey
I eagerly wait to see his face
to capture the last glimpse of the light
that brightened my path since I was born
His body will soon be consumed by holy fire
and his soul will merge into eternity
The holy Ganges will carry his ashes
into the vast blue oceans
and there he will rest in peace
The light that has gone out from Earth
now will shine brightly in the sky
and when I'll look above each time
I'll see him smile
I wait at the banks of the holy Ganges
for my father’s arrival
to bid him final farewell
I feel blank, how it all happened so fast
My eyes swell with tears
I want my father, I want my father back
He doesn't speak, he would not speak to me ever
He would not smile when I would return home
I know this meeting is different but it just feels the same
Father, you don't know how long I waited to be with you
I had secretly marked a park in Moscow
where we would go everyday for a walk
be it summer, winter, snow or rain
but see I am here
waiting at the banks of the holy Ganges
wondering how should I say you goodbye
would I ever believe you are gone
I must be strong, I am your son.
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
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