** DRIFTWOOD
My roots lie buried deep in the East,
Where sun is hot and winter least!
I wondered in service from place to
place,
Like a drift wood afloat on water’s
surface!
My luggage always followed in a truck,
And I hoped that my next posting would
bring me better luck!
I never got a chance to take firm roots, -
Like people staying in one place always
should!
Then finally I settled in this Delhi city,
With nostalgic thoughts of the East -
haunting me!
Now mentally I remain a floating entity,
Like a rootless driftwood in this Capital
City!
-Raj Nandy
New Delhi
11 Mar 09
Raj, for a moment I thought you were describing my life! Drifting here and drifting there, we collect so many thoughts, lots of memories of this or that, then we wonder where we are. Bob
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful write raj! randomly picked up this poem, thinking about a driftwood, and found you instead.i know one gets weary, of changing homes! specially in services.by the time we finish we become a pot pourrie of different cultures! enjoyed thoroughly this poem.....ritty