Shahid Sarwar Poems

She is an art museum
With everything classic.
Bone china, glazed porcelain,
Well chiseled organic wares:
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The words I have spoken
The words I have written
Do not mark the end of speech
The speech is the tree
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Angular, lean and tall
She trudges down the road
No lament, no complaint
While carrying life’s load.
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Something is there in your eyes
That has robbed me of my heart
Now, I resound like an empty vessel
That is emptied even of any definite shape –
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The end of the road
And the beginning of a new journey
Tracks unknown
And lands untold of.
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Alas! The anti-apartheid icon
The illustrious son of South Africa
is no more. No more
Is the Icon of Reconciliation
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I grew certain of her demise
When my hand moved
Down the vacuum of her form.
She didn't hear the cries
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She dissolved
In the sea of silence
When I asked her
How I could reconcile
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We love
Not to possess
But be possessed.
Love is
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