Every day, I hear one of my loved ones
Call out my name; even though they're dead;
Gone away, to where we should never speak-
But still they keep on calling for me.
It makes me suspect all those years
When I thought I was doing things, just for them
They were really doing them for me;
That somehow I need to be needed
Even more than the dead need their rest.
And so my sleepless mind keeps them occupied;
And still they summon aid, at my behest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poignant indeed! Please read 'Is Not Perception....Reality.'