Monologue of a Worthy Son - 2
The family and all fraternity
At the bottom of heart, all Love carry
In blood cells, every fear they bury
I’ve lived in wishes of all fellowmen
In whose wishes my cradle was nursed.
From the blooms of wreath at the end
I sense the laurel of the motherland
The aroma of soil I’ve felt
The pangs of plants I sense,
In his nourishment of the plants, the planter,
The cattle he drives which he rears
To keep all safe and unharmed
Catering the beehives all around
In all pollens of the farm
I feel the music of his
Mingling with the hum of bees
The ecstasy in each pore
For a cool but sunny morn tomorrow.
I owe my strength to the charm of fruits
The blessings of milk, lassi and curd-rice
In summer the tender coconut juice.
I wish to be buried not but burnt
In my hometown that gave me strength
Its cool breeze and soothing stream.
My ashes to be flown not in the Ganga
But be smeared in all village farms
So that I can get a chance
To pay back some debt of motherland.
Copyright © Gobinda Sahoo | Year Posted 2016
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