Epoch Poem by P.A. NOUSHAD (SHOMSI)

When I was standing with Ma
near the yard of my house
you were flying here and there
kissing the flowers to quench the thirst,
the colorful delicate wings
drawing pictures in the sky,
I was watching and enjoying,
the dancing steps of your wings
I was flying around then
over the vales, pools and gardens
slowly I was merging in you
as part of the lovely nature,
another day
when I was playing
my marvelous sand house
destroyed by the people
who sat in silence
in the yard of my house
a long box they carried
my mother was inside
in sound sleep?
covered with a white cloth
this might be a play of elders I thought
I walked and sat in a corner of the yard
to rebuild my marvelous sand house
expecting my mother would come back
to play with me and give me milk
birds were flying to their nests
sun was sinking in the west
black blanket covered the trees
but mother didn't come back
father was in the room sitting gloomy
I didn't get any reply from him
besides the trickling tears
I was waiting and waiting then
till the eyelids were down with weight
then I saw
my mother smiling
in between the stars
waiting for me
to give me a warm kiss
on my cheek on my cheek,
flower petals effaced her footprint
with a thinning out fragrance that covered it,
rain's whine rhymed
and the loss tipped over to deep,
days passed
the wind and storm were unable
the rain and waves not strong enough
to uncover it,
amazed the stars
could have they come down
to uncover the footprint?
no, never
the weeping eyes began to forget it for the new
the setting sun offered a glimmer,
an unseen chain
the mind writes on the rainbow:
the footprint, the stars and time.
Birds, flowers, butterflies
life on the earth
grass, galaxies, time and infinity
my mind recollects all these
dreams
an innocent smile on the face of a child
tears of a neglected child
a rose lying near the tomb in silence
with scattered tears on the petals
sleep death darkness
the stream of love
the stream of dreams
and the stream of tears
epics were born on their banks
they will flow wanderlust
till the last breath of the last living.