Cottage Or Apartment - Poem by Vera Sidhwa
The roses' and the vines' fragrance,
Mingled with my cottage air.
Maine's preponderance of pines,
Surrounded my cottage fair.
The heavenly light ray,
Pierced through the fir tree.
It made my life there,
A nature fantasy.
That wooden kyake parked on the Sound,
Spoke to me of learning the sea.
Twittering birds and wild turkeys,
Spoke to me of how life should be.
But the human in me, never quite satisfied,
Yearned for alterations,
Of happiness that could have been,
A still happier life, that could have been.
But I started to focus on tiny details,
Of a flutter of a bird's wing.
Of the way these birds could sing.
Of the way these birds flew.
All these things my heart could not do.
It just could not do.
I now wanted to live in an apartment,
Dissatisfied with my cottage,
Dissatisfied with nature and God's forest,
And trees, and what could be.
Then I realized, how far I had strayed,
From my own childhood happiness,
That spontaneous happy ignition,
Where happiness resided.
But I never opened that shiny door,
Where this happiness was stored.
Well, I now smelled the pine tree needles,
The freshness of that inviting river,
That babbling brook of my Maine,
Where my cottage stood,
Way in the undergrowth,
Where my feet wanted to trod.
Down that way to that awaiting happiness,
Given to each of us, free by God,
That lay deep, so deep in our heart.
That I would never from this cottage part.
To any move to any apartment, anywhere,
To seek some fantasy happiness,
But uncapturable again,
Since once again, depending on outside appearances.
Godly happiness, once more ignored.
So both the cottage and the apartment failed you.
Childhood happiness, once more ignored.
No cottage nor apartment living, could your happiness find.
Comments about Cottage Or Apartment by Vera Sidhwa
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye