The Inmate
I see the majestic, blue sky enveloping
the barren earth ;
like a thick, blue blanket of flannel ,
shrouding a quivering baby.
I smell the silent fragrance of rainbow
colored flowers all around ;
as if a valley full of roses, and tulips,
and petunias has come to life.
I hear the incessant gibberish of blithe
children playing,
as if they are nonchalant to the harsh
realities that life sometimes bears.
I look around and I am left to wonder
I wonder how ; I wonder why ,
this pristine beauty is so alien to me,
this splendid world no longer belongs to me.
From inside this deep commotion ,
I can hear my heart echoing :
“ Fetter me all you can ; tie me with
the strongest chains that you have.
But you cannot chain the fresh air
that sweeps into my cell and
swamps me , irrespective of my color,
race , religion, or language.”
But , nevertheless , apprehensive
of the evanescence of this cool breeze that
somehow creeps through the narrow
bars of my cell , I devour it.
Mar 21,’05.
Copyright © Imrana Iqbal | Year Posted 2012
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