Details |
Naushahi Naushahi Poem
??? ???? ?????? ??????
The Wandering Yogi
From city to city, from every town to town
Catching every smile to smile, every frown to frown.
His allegiance goes to the exalted one, not any nobility nor the crown.
The mysterious venture itself is a compass – forever trailing up and down.
He vision’s more to the sandstorm than just the sands might.
What he really seeks is the commandeering winds, hidden from man’s sight.
For he is like a moth, forever trying to follow the mystical light.
A servant of humanity, here to douse out ones fiery plight.
The mystical light to him, is like the sweet essence of nectar to a bee
His journey has no fragrant flower to guide the way, only his heart must see.
The burden of Caste, Creed and Colour cannot weigh him down – forever he is free.
These bitter ingredients are for his pestle and mortar, mixed together to serve he.
Always alert, always ominous. Wary of the treacherous thorns.
Even the smallest prickle can poisonously permeate – towards the path of the one with horns.
Decorating his path to God for others to follow – moving on as he adorns.
And for those who have permanently set their ship astray – he shall set up half mast, for he mourns.
From sunrise to sunset. From a healthy youth to a venerable age.
Adhering to his spiritual principals. A beacon of knowledge – a mystical sage.
Until he reaches his beloved, his only shelter against this life is faith and a hermitage.
Walking steadfast on an arduous journey of pain and languish – travelling away from life’s cage. The Wandering Yogi.
Feedback would be great!
Copyright © Naushahi Naushahi | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Naushahi Naushahi Poem
Journey To A Sceptred Isle -
Mysterious land's of lavish greenery
Breathtaking view's. Indescribably scenery.
The land and irrigated pastures, ever so fertile
In the midst of the Atlantic, a floating pearl, a magnificent isle.
An island inhabited by the mighty and proud
Siberian winds circulate the lonesome isle. A quintessential shroud
The upper north. Rough highlands and mountains
The lower south. Fine abbeys and fountains.
An island, a speck. Minute and petite
Do not forsake this treasury of power. It's aura emit's mystique.
Follow the beckoning light. Think not of these lands barbarious
Expected the unexpected. A famed nation where men grow victorious.
Clasped the entire world in it's tight fist
It's tongue and culture spread like a soulful mist.
Grasped the lands of their forefathers, with its might
Undeniable power - an empire which exceeded the sky in height
The lands where the chilling winds bite
And the glaring snow, creeps in through the whistling night
Yet the extreme south experiences a Caribbean breeze
In the midst of a humble, everlasting freeze
The lands of inspiration and desire. A cornucopia of hope
A gamble, which only the brave and bold, take and cope.
An open chest of emeralds. A civilized society
What is the price they shall pay, discrimination, and labelled the minority?
The lands great King’s and Queen’s viciously fought
A place wise sage’s and priest’s exhaustively taught.
A place inhabited by the pompous and the scrupulous
However, like all goldmines ; come impurities and the perfidious.
We pay our respect to Haji Naushah Ganj Baksh, now starts the adventure
Farewell Hindustan – land of the Indus. Into the Unknown we venture.
Drawing near and near, to the mysterious lands. Sleep deprived, induced insomnia
Their feet’s touch the fresh grass. Can it be? Mighty Britannia.
-My fathers spiritual, and emotionally crushing journey to set up a new life in the west. dedicated to him.
Copyright © Naushahi Naushahi | Year Posted 2014
|