My Dad Is Coming Home Poem by Mohabeer Beeharry

At last the sun rose in an azure blue sky,
As a thin screen of the last night mist lingers.
Heart on fire with loving anticipation,
Like a timid bird
Wings close to the body I sat up in bed.

Eyes on the door, agitated.
Still haloed into the grace of a gentle and hallowed excitement,
My dad is coming!

But the world sleeps, perchance to dream,
A profound slumber of sweet nothingness
Where you create castles
Cross oceans and at will blow hills and mountains away?
You dance
You screech now and then
And then wake up to a jolting uncertain reality.

It was all a dream,
The tears were fake drops of fake pain
A receding chimera,
And the joys, dissembling and beyond reach!

But the reality you wake up to is real.
The injuries bleed real blood
The mind rankles with real longings
losses and hurts.

The tears are warm, the joys full of yearning,
Desires, unfinished.
The failures and the insults etch the heart
That leaves you fickle, fragile and full of fears.

I know nothing of the beyond.
There the flowers may be more beautiful,
Life more wondrous and free,
And exuberant!

Do not the wise men sing of eternal life
Where birds lark for endless days
In eternally blue sky?
And riots of colorful flowers stay for ever?

My father is coming home
To keep me fromdreaming
To keep me awake.

Who knows how will the arrogant time greet him,
A toothless brute that never looks back,
And regales in leaving behind uncovered graves of helpless beauties,
And unwritten histories?

But I know the woods will explode with endless spread of flowers,
The birds will never cease to warble and to choir,
The breeze laden with treasures of fragrances
Will lighten every heart.
What mighty cascades of twinkling lights will come down from the stars?

This empty space will glow
You will laugh and dance
I will smile
This world will smile.
There will be peace,
There will be only joy.

Why fear when my father is back home,
Not to me only
But to you, you and you?