Skip to main content

One Step Forward


One Step Forward

Is it the hour of farewell,
Are there only minutes left to say good bye?
Has Time taken away my childhood,
Do I have to leave with a sigh?

But hasn't it been my dream,
To witness the Wild?
Now when the Time has come,
Why do I behave like a child?

The Little Child had dreamt,
Always for adventure.
Now when the hour is here,
With fear, why does she shiver?

It's been easier to dream,
She said to herself.
Adventure is a long road,
And I don't know where to begin.

I had once dreamt of the Ocean,
I had once dreamt of the Wild.
But I have no will to place my feet on this road,
Grieved the Little Child.

She felt the Breeze touch her soft face,
Smiling, she breathed the new clean air.
Outside is a fresh new beginning,
With open arms is someone waiting for me there?

Be free like me,
Be free, hummed the Wind.
Believe in yourself,
Only then will you win!

The Little Child stared blindly,
She had once believed in herself.
Even with the Road waiting for her now,
She feared her adventure itself.

The Wind blew violently,
Breaking her stare.
Come out of your misery,
For no one really cares.

Hundreds have gone before you,
On the road of adventure, they have tread.
And more will go later,
Said the wild Wind, unafraid.

I am scared, O Wind,
Of what lies for me ahead.
Once I live my dream,
Will my soul be dead?

Will my soul fulfill itself,
Not wanting to know more?
Will my journey end so soon,
When I want to see so much more?

The Wind sang around her,
Little Child, I am the maker of dreams.
Once one is fulfilled,
There pops up another beam!

The Little Child giggled,
At the Winds' joyous song!
Surely when I see a game,
Will I not want to play along?

Surely when I see the Road,
Will I not want to be swept along?

All along I have dreamt for adventure,
And its' long road waits for me here!
With the Wind she sang as she opened her Door,
Slowly, she stepped out onto the Open Road.

A tear rolled down her face,
As she ran with the Wind, onwards.
All along I have been dreaming.
Finally I am,
One Step Forward!


Maryam Kaleem


*Part 3 of the "Little Child" poems!

Comments

  1. awsum awsum awsum..!!
    fambulous maryam..!!
    now yu proved to be MY frend ;)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Girl Who Sold A Basket

      THE GIRL WHO SOLD A BASKET        Every morning my father made me go to the station at Deoli and sell the baskets which my younger sister and I would make. Deoli is a very small station and only a few trains would pass by. Father had met with an accident a year ago, and ever since he has been unable to work at the wood factory. Selling baskets was the only means left for us to earn money. With what little we earned, we managed to survive.        I was only fourteen then, and being the chirpy sort, I found it troublesome to sell baskets each day. The Deoli station hardly had any excitement; a tea stall, a fruit vendor, a newspaper seller and the office of the station master. That was all. No one got on the trains that passed, and no one got off.        Summer was the only time I enjoyed my duty. Deoli itself didn't bring any change, but the trains did. The passengers were more and there would be more noise and more happenings. The trains would stop for the same ten minutes

The Call Of The Ocean

THE CALL OF THE OCEAN The sound of the gushing waves, Brought a smile to her young face. Running to the window, She witnessed Nature's grace. She placed her hands against the window pane, Far away, she noticed something coming her way. Wiping her tears, she gazed on, earnestly, At the Ocean spread all around - O what a wonderful scene! The rays of the sun danced on the ship's mast, Just like a net, on the ship - it's Light it had cast. Curiosity took over the little girl's mind, Behind the glass, is it not beauty that she'll find? In the dark of the night she listens to that Voice, Every night it says to her: Make Your Choice. With open arms, I call out to you, I yearn for dreamers, just like you. The waters receded, giving her a chance to speak, Ocean, do not be mistaken, for my dream is weak. Never will I be able to break these bonds, The view from here is more than I could want. On this the Ocean rose once more, Trying to move across the shore. Don't yo

Drought

DROUGHT There is no use, whining and complaining. You do not hear our meek, feeble voices. While you dance and rejoice in cool cascades, Burnt, barren - I lay on the blazing sand. Last summer did I harrow through the dirt, Digging deeper into my six feet pit, Sowing kernels I will never watch bloom - A meagre inheritance for my son What use is it now to keep that scarecrow? No yield remains for birds to snatch and steal. I have stood with my arms outstretched, waiting To be but denied by God's scavengers. So let me stand before this pleasant noose - A fertile ring against desolation. - Maryam Kaleem A late upload - dedicated to those farmers who have suffered due to the drought in recent years. Monsoon is here now, Alhamdulillah. I pray it rains enough. I pray our farmers live a happy, prosperous life. I pray they escape persecution. I pray they never have to take such drastic steps to have their voice heard.