My Son

Far away in the West, Far far away from my cuddles and caresses, Lives my son, Where rapid is the rise of the sun, where the sun is remiss to rest. Where he is surmounting over all tides and tempest, searing snares and savoring success. Where the winds herald his coming, where friends and foes at his behest. Far away in the West, Far far away from my cadences and caprices, Lives my son, In the land of dazzle, land of dare, Land of fortune, land of absolute air, Land of inventions, land of brewing beer. Far away in the West, Far far away from my dirge and distress, Lives my son, His dreams- a swift sturdy stallion, Now smother him and saddle him towards shallow success. The land where he once spent debonair doting days with me, is now a bygone ghostly galleon. Far away in the West, Far far away from my tears and trinkets, My son , let me live in your heart’s undefiled chamber and let me glide in your soul’s virgin glade. Saptarshi Mukherjee