Wanderer Poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma

Born wanderer I am, leaving a world behind,
As much you have, I left to grind,
For this heartless cruel city, left heaven behind,
For a wired desire to create a new world,
Left the ancestral nest crying shedding tears of blood,
As if some sad star dropped.

Bracelet tied by a dear sister, now shattered,
All relationship left behind, tattered,
Chain of love given by a loving hand,
Is left behind for an illusionary band,
Warm meal cooked by mother, enthralled,
That love laden basket is forgotten behind.

A road crawling from Khurja to Delhi, jammed,
Left there all the relations wailing and rammed,
Difficult to believe but embraced,
My house, lane for false dreams, left behind,
Birds crying on my roof top but never stopped,
Praying, o shepherd return to this herd.

In this dark cave of hopes, morning shadowed,
Shree Sidheshwar and Mata temple, left behind,
Morning rays delivering miseries, joy concealed,
Dawn at Chatri Ghat, evenings of Manji Ghat, left behind,
All the festivals celebrated together, here uncrowned,
Left behind the burning pyres to wail in open ground.

Hugging people at vibrating banks, where I played,
Only haunted world is left behind,
Brought with us marriage album, ornamented
But holy Sehra is left behind,
A being breathing unplanned, lamented,
Between life and death a wanderer is left behind.

DR. YOGESH SHARMA