Muhammad Nasrullah Khan | + Follow Poet |
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When You Return Home

When you return home after many years,
stepping onto familiar soil,
your heart stirs with bittersweet anticipation.
The sun-tinted house that once witnessed your dreams
now stands a stranger, with cold eyes afar,
overgrown vines clinging to its weathered walls.
It is as if time has woven arras of indifference,
forgetting the dwelling you once held dear.
Your gloomy eyes , yearn for the sight of loved ones.
Brimming with longing and delight,
search for the comforting presence of a mother’s love.
But her cot is empty, an echoing void
that resonates with absence.
The silence lingers, a haunting reminder
of the void left behind.
Your ears strain, longing to catch
the timbre of your father’s call,
but the emptiness engulfs you,
and his voice is but an echo in the time.
Oh, how it pains you to realize
that the essence of your childhood has vanished,
scattered like fragments of a forgotten dream.
The trees you once nurtured
no longer extend their branches in recognition,
their leaves now whispering unfamiliar secrets to the wind.
The birds that sang in joyful harmony
have embarked on their migratory journey,
leaving behind only mark of their melodies.
In your room, where time stands still,
A sanctuary of memories, both tender and surreal.
Your photo on the tinting wall,
Whispers tales of laughter.
In this moment, you stand suspended
between the realms of nostalgia and reality,
caught in the delicate dance of remembrance and loss.
The evening glows, once bathed in golden hues,
now cast their gentle glares upon your soul.
Days spent in the backyard beneath the sheltering heaven
of a tall tree flicker before your eyes,
like fragments of a fading painting.
As you wander through the corridors of time,
retracing the steps of your youth,
you come to realize that home is not merely a collection of tiles
not a building, confined within four walls,
it’s a dropbox of your heart, where dreams are saved, love and laughter sprawls, a symphony of whispers, of joy and tears combined,
an abode of cherished echoes, forever intertwined,
an eternal flame that cannot be extinguished.
As you stand there, amidst the overgrown ruins of the past,
You find the lost essence of being, imprinted upon your soul.
No matter how you wander, how far and wide you roam,
You know you’ll always return, to the place that owns you.

…

Copyright © Muhammad Nasrullah Khan | Year Posted 2023

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