Ripple and Rippled

By Mirza Qanitullah Baig

Seated on the damp grass,

Empty whistles blow pass.

I ponder, I wonder,

Each blunder, I plunder.

Sole are me and my thoughts,

Witness my brain and heartly fraughts.

Disrupted was my cause,

As I witness the image because,

Witnessed by I was a child’s distraught,

Ignorance and empathy of my stage they fought.

The image was depthless,

He seemed helpless.

Eyes were frighten but locked of ours,

Eyes were swollen with sorrow of hours.

The body was small,

The sorrows seemed tall.

Reluctance was faced,

His arms were laced.

‘Grace me your sorrow’, asked my empathy,

‘Grace you your solace’, affirmed my empathy.

Silence was returnt,

Repent was burnt.

‘I now naught of your sorrow,

Your emotions I’d borrow.’

Silence was returnt,

Heart of mine was burnt.

Outstretched was my arm,

But its depthless was its charm.

Outstretched was not his arm,

Followed by the laced charm.

Contact was made,

My emotions and sorrows fade.

Ripple and rippled the marvelous sound,

My brain and heart begin to pound.

Silence was followed, and silence was favoured.

Emotions were bellowed, and emotions were devoured.

Seen was nowhere the sorrowful child,

Seen was nowhere my sorrowful mind,

Seen was nowhere my sorrowful heart,

Seen was nowhere any sorrowful kind.

Solace was seeked,

Solace I weeped.

Soleless was seeked,

A place with me but others emptied.

I ponder, I wonder,

Each blunder, I plunder.

The child’s emotion,

The child’s disposition.

Breathe was forsaken,

Life was forsaken,

Peace was given,

No shoulder was given,

No mind was given,

No heart was given,

No word was given,

No thought was given,

But, everything was taken.

My breath has, forsaken…

By Mirza Qanitullah Baig