Lines From A Distant Land Poem by Quaid-Uz- Zaman

here, i hear the humming of
boiling water in a pristine kettle
and am going to prepare a cocktail drink all with
clove, cinnamon and Malabar pepper
against all the odds
and for a resurrection;

i keep aside the side dish full of allurements,
a giant fish deeply fried,
or a grilled chicken displayed high;

i avoid red meats, fats and oils as doctors suggest me;
i take greens and salads a plenty
i prefer spring water,
i prefer now natural herbs,
and am going to drink the cherished drink;

here, i hear, the humming of boiling water and distant wild bees collecting nectar,
i hear the buzzing sound of the unseen
and definitely unanswered.