God came down silently and softly took you away in his loving arms. The strongest fruit tree took time to be uprooted. Ravaged by confusion and insensibility, ties are not broken with ease. No one dies before time. All is predestined, as was charted out for you. You had to fly out of the doors of entanglements, to make room for the next to take over your enviable seat. Now our days are numbered. It is the turn of the next to hear the death-knell, ‘Your time is up!’
Poet’s Note: The death of a parent is ravaging. When the next generation takes over, it is their turn to realize they too, have to die.
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!
It was getting dark. The insane curve of greed was rising. I would not draw the boundaries between the words. The finch was immersed in soliloquies and light was waiting inside the seeds. I open my eyes and yell at
My fellow Americans, The hour is dark. Hence I stand before you With a heavy heart. Something is coming, Something man has never seen – An attack lacking precedent Within the pages of history. As you all well know, We
One time above a little shop, An old greengrocer climbed on top, Despite himself he could not stop, The world had changed forever. The fruit of that old grocers loins, Became obsessed with notes and coins, She knew the club