ROOP REKHA BHASKAR
Gypsy - Poem by ROOP REKHA BHASKAR
On foot over mountains and valleys I pass,
I swim the tides over streams deep;
I tug my lass; yank my cow, my sheep,
And ache within to see it so.
God! You guard me from behind the clouds? Test me endure the hunger, the thirst? ”
I don’t know where I had, last a house.
Nor fed my young with a loaf of bread.
I forgot when, last I washed;
I’m a ghost deprived of all, but life.
From land to land of unknown sorts,
Amble and scrounge for crumbs on streets.
Folks scorn my spectacle and spit
I bow in shame for a sin not done.
I raise my eyes, scan the skies.
“God; why you lock yourself in paradise? ‘Stead bestow an audience to shield my woe.”
Where from am I? Where for to go?
Am I a refugee who flees or a Romany gypsy?
I’ve no crime on hands –yet crimson with blood my own.
I want to work – Yet, no work has me.
All scatter as I walk – like I am the plague
That might raise its hand to strike them dead.
“God! Tell me why you sealed, uncommitted wrong thus? So when I bow my head, I know the verse I sing? ”
And plead amnesty in humble words,
“Give me a chance to know where I belong.
Give me a road that leads to a home
Give me a country that I call my own
Grant me the blessing you have hallowed others along.”
And then a voice within me sang,
I blessed all plenty with a land to live.
I designed no boundaries to sweep across.
You severed my ground with Kingdoms and countries,
While I bled and cried and cried like you.
How long will it take for My children to know?
There exists for All one land.... and One God for all.
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