I have been wondering Ever since you left us, What were your thoughts That early morn? You were silent While you lay quietly on bed.
For the past few months You had learned to Resign to your fate. Your wounds were healing Yet tired was your spirit As you gave in to dependency On others for your basic needs. Much did you despise Calling out to mother and child To give you a helping hand For necessities that you wished To do yourself. Shame and embarrassment Was slowly overtaken by I Have No Choice!
That morn you were to walk Once again. Mother and child freshened you And you sipped your tea Without a sound, without a word. You were a little tired As you lay back to rest, Never to wake up again.
What thoughts crossed Your mind that day? We thought you were looking forward To your first footsteps that day. Or did you think My first footsteps were with my mother The second time would be crazily challenging? Or is it that granny said Don’t fret, don’t exhaust, I’ll take you now on a heavenly journey? Did you see the divine light That forewarned you Your hour has come? Did god whisper a sweet welcome to you? Were you happy or sad to leave mother and child? Dad, did I come for once in your thoughts Or did I remain in the periphery With the earthly transactions As you transcended into the cosmic peace?
I remain burdened with the bond of love. I miss your warmth As you enveloped me saying The doors of my heart are always open.
Poet’s Note A daughter wonders what her father must have thought before his demise, and if she came in his thoughts at the final hour.
Balveen Cheema has been teaching English for 25 years. It is at the ripe age of 60 that she started penning her thoughts into poetry. Being brought up and educated by her grandparents in a cosmopolitan environs of Pune and visiting her parents in rural Punjab during her vacations, she shuttled between the modern and rural backgrounds . A strong streak of romanticism with nature and rustic pleasures is evident in many of her poems. At present she is residing in Chandigarh and still enjoying her first love, poetry!
The snow fell quietly on the little hill with the softness of swan feathers, blanketing the ground around the tiny log cabin. Wispy drifts cascaded down the roof and gathered around the windowsills as if to cradle the tiny abode
The peaceful night The stars and the moon The wind sea The stargazing.. How lovely is it? Away from busy city,people and noise. Only you and nature. You feel peace in heart. Peace in mind. Deep inside we all long
Dead ones speak Martyr speaks More loudly than before With Echos every corner How fortunate they Treading path of Martyrdom Martyrdom to peace Harmony & Justice But- Shooters of martyrs Build society of hatred And martyrs crucified Generation after generation
Be with me in this zone of pain. My poems was walking through me. The flute I broke, in the river of silence. Someone was whispering to me in sleep. Why this desire of awakening in darkness, when light was