Letters to My Love… (2)

You are the smile on my face, inspiration for my foot steps, and motivation behind my breath. No less, and a lot more! How many times do I want to tell you that I love you, but there are not enough words. And, the words commonly used are not dignified enough! O Love! O Love! O Love! You teach me how to live. You are an example of life itself. Actually, you are ‘the’ Life. Your eyes are full of dreams, even at dusk! Who knows it is a new beginning! Your lips have freshness of rose petals, and, your smile is like that of an infant!

You made my life what it should have been ideally.what it was, when you first met me, but a replica of hell.my eyes were as dark as starless nights, my lips were dry leaves, and smile that of a dying person. You made me live, you made me love, you made me the Love!

Letters to my Love… (1)

It is a midget like expression in comparison to what I feel for you, and, what you feel for me! Mere ‘I love you’ is not enough. I wish language had such a thing as expression in it, then I would have told you what you mean to me…

You are not a flower, whose life is a day or two; nor are you a moth, who dies for the love of light! You are light itself- one who can consume a million moths and still dazzle the Sam- patiently and peacefully.

You are not the universe, for universe is too tiny, you are not anything, nothing in particular but everything that one can be, and that which one cannot be. You are not ordinary, nor is my love for you. My love is not a mere spark, or a bonfire lit in controlled circumstances; my love is a fire that can consume forests , villages and cities alike, and still be unsatisfied. You are that first drop of rain which lands on this rage, and instantaneously calms it down.

For how many times do I want to tell you ‘I love you’; but, words are dwarf and you are a giant. From where should I bring such words as may define- no, definition is not all inclusive- from where should I bring such words as may express what you mean to me. I wish, I could become like you and each and every thread of my being expressed ‘you’.

….Sahar Raman Deep

Author of ‘The UnSaid: Listen to the Silence “

The UnSaid: Listen to the Silence… a book by Sahar Raman Deep

Poetry comes from the highest happiness

or the deepest sorrow.

….A. P. J. Abdul Kalam

Embrace!

As puss comes out of a wound

My anxieties came out of me

Such was the effect of your embrace

O child of resonance !

As tears come out of dry eyes

As breath flows

In an attack of asthma

As a blister bursts on the skin

Of a child

An ah came out of my being

And I wondered

What was it

That just hug me

An angel or devil?

Or,

Plain innocence!

The UnSaid: Listen to the Silence

 

Dear friends, I am glad to announce that the ebook version of my first chapbook ‘The UnSaid’ is available on Amazon.com for preorder now. The paperback will be available on Nov. 7, 2018. I hope that you like the work.

Thanks.

Sahar Raman Deep.

 

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Innocence Lost

On the other side of the shore

Eyes await for the lonely child

Who Got lost among walls

Of mine and thine

Innocence is compromised

Sickness is invited

And tenderness wipes it’s nose with sleeve

When borders are built

On land

Or

on paper

…Sahar Raman Deep

You!!!

In the serenity of heart

There is visible

Only one face

The divine

The lovely

The loving

You!

Don’t think I have

Gone crazy in your love

I have rather

Found myself

My long lost self

In the image of you

Regardless to say

You are the only one

Who loves me

And loves me

More than

I love myself

I am

So grateful to you!

Sahar Raman Deep

June 28, 2018

What Fifty Said by Robert Frost

When I was young my teachers were the old.
I gave up fire for form till I was cold.
I suffered like a metal being cast.
I went to school to age to learn the past.

Now when I am old my teachers are the young.
What can’t be molded must be cracked and sprung.
I strain at lessons fit to start a suture.
I got to school to youth to learn the future.
Robert Frost

Ideally, a human being is a lifelong student, and everyone and everything in nature is his teacher. Infact, according to the eastern tradition, nature is the best of teachers. It lets oneself be. There is a story narrated in one of the Upanishads of the Vedas, that a student, after serving the guru for quite some time, thought himself to be perfect for initiation. But the teacher thought otherwise, so he sent the disciple to the jungle to graze the cows. At first, this seems to be cruel and unkind on the part of the teacher. But, on a closer look, we find that the teacher has given the student enough time to be by himself and nature and unravel many of its mysteries, thus realizing his natural potential.

The modern day education, as talked about by Robert Frost in his poem ‘What Fifty Said’, is confined to the four walls of classroom totally cut off from nature. Students sit together and learn, not at their own pace, but at a pace set by the teacher. All must learn the same lessons, and come to same conclusions. Individuality of a student is killed in the process.

‘I gave up fire for form till I was cold’

This kind of education system was designed for the industrial era to create obedient and disciplined workers to work in various factories and offices of the rich. They had set a mould- of a job the students must do after graduating. But, it was very painful to the free nature of an innocent child, just like being cast in a metal, as Frost says. Most people are never able to break free of this cast.

The ‘old’ in the first line of the second stanza refers to the age of the poet, as well as the old education system he has been educated in, which is a misfit in today’s world. Now, the teachers are young, and know the new methods. But, before something new is learned, the old must be unlearned. And, it is a painful process of breaking and a making.

‘What can’t be molded must be cracked and sprung’

(Does this line refer to a new kind of mould replacing the old one; but nonetheless, still a mould?)

The main emphasis in this stanza is on the fact that now we are looking towards future, and future in itself embeds hope in it.

But, the question is, has the future of education come yet? We still have those old classrooms, even though a sophisticated projector has replaced the black board. We still need students to cram their lessons, at least at the lower grades, and pour out the same way. What Frost was envisioning in this poem was a lifelong process of learning and development. Now we need to make our students learn to think; and to question- for questioning is the new knowledge.

… Sahar Raman Deep

 

 

 

 

A Late Walk by Robert Frost

When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.

And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words

A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.

I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.
….. Robert Frost

Robert Frost is a well known poet, known for his monologues; he does not need any introduction, so I shall go directly to his poem ‘A Late Walk’.

The title of the poem itself suggests the relativity of the present moment in time- it is past the moment that was perfect. The perfection may be of the poet’s life, of the season, or the day. It may be the poet’s individual experience which he has elevated to the whole of universe. The rattling leaf, the whir of sober birds, the withered weeds- they are not merely signs of an outward gloom. They represent a disharmony and imperfection too. And this imperfection may very well be that in the mind of the poet. May be he has not been able to preserve something precious to him, or in him, something which was not only worldly, but something transcendent too. May be he has lost his wholeness, so that he is doubtful that even the dry brown leaf may be disturbed by his thoughts. Earlier, he has scared the birds hidden in withered weeds.

This brings us to two things. The first is that the disharmony and gloom outside is natural. The imagery of autumn tells us that. At the same time, the the fear and discord has also been created by the man himself. Like, the birds get disturbed by the poet’s presence. The dying leaf is, feared by the poet that it may have been disturbed by his thoughts. At a certain level, whole of the nature is communicating with each other wordlessly. Discord at one place creates a discord everywhere. For example, when Macbeth kills the king, the birds cry all night and the the horses in the stable fight with each other indicating to the general public that something terrible has happened.

The poet is self conscious of having lost, or about to be losing, something precious. It may be his own self. The ‘you’ that he talks about in the last line may be his own consciousness, and gifting it the last aster may be his last attempt at saving his conscience. The personal being of a poet is not limited to his individual self, rather the the whole of the universe is engrossed in it. Of course, the ‘you’ can be his dying love too, which may be a person or a thing or an idea or ideal much adored by him.

The symbol of evening is also very striking. It is sad. The birds are whirring in the ‘withered weeds’. The general tone of melancholy becomes obvious with ‘ sadder than any words’. But, at the same time, evening comes and goes away with a promise of new dawn. Moreover, it is ‘a late walk’ not ‘the last walk’.

…Sahar Raman Deep

 

Yardstick of Success

In no hurry
Am I
To be with him
Or with them
The lights of soul
 
I am content
In the mess
That I am
For mess is what
Defines me
 
Hundreds of books
Scattered on bed
Chair is a wardrobe
And so is my floor
Papers are not in files
But mixed up with clothes
So are my thoughts
Mixed up with 
Feelings
Feelings mixed up with
Passions
And passions
Mixed with breath
 
What if I am
So disorganized
Organization is not
The only key to success
 
Contentment is!
…Sahar Raman Deep

What I Want

 

No

This is not what I want

No 

This is not what I seek 

No 

This is not what I aspire to be

 

I am an atom

In the freely flowing 

Breeze 

I am a particle of water

In the intoxicated stream

I am none other than 

The speck of light

Leaving the sun beam

 

I seek the suns

I seek the oceans

I seek the skies

I seek not

The dummy gods

Whom my mind can comply

May it be Apollo

Or Indra

Or Science

 

…Sahar Raman Deep

Well Wisher?

you
the lamp of my eyes
subject of
many a poems i wrote
asked about
me
my health
my wealth
about everyone
i carry in my relationships
i smiled at your
obvious concern

but sitting alone
i wonder why
you never ask about
the light
that enlightens my soul
the glow of my face
hardly hidden
the diamond
i showed only to you…!

…Sahar Raman Deep

 

 

Freedom Was Her Name!

when you knew
you will not be able to
preserve
what makes her
beautifies her
is the very core of her being
something which
made you
fall in love at first sight-
why did you
even try to
possess her in the first place?
all the golden walls
of your love
could not save her

Freedom was her name!

…Sahar Raman Deep 

 

Drowning in My Own Self…

drowning in my own self
unable
to find a way out
of the abyss
that i am

long
long ago
a fairy had landed
on the thorn that pricked my heart
she tried to free me
but started bleeding a lot
her heart
her soul
her spirit
were wounded
she cried tears of blood
and all that I could do was
give her a
faint smile

this pain
this trauma
that she left with me
of not being able to
help her
while she was
helping me
is the deep scar
on the face of moon
incidentally
my heart-
a mass of white ashes
broken peaks
and dry rivers.

and I burn like stars
which are
no more visible
in the night sky
i burn myself
i burn myself
i burn myself
to be alive
for
the day I stop burning
i shall be no more
than a mass of
gray ashes

…Sahar Raman Deep

 

 

A Void, An Emptiness…

A void
An emptiness
A hollow deep within the heart
Where you used to reside…

Your words
Stingy as they were
Still pricking the heart
Venom spreading in all the mind

Dying
Or trying to die
My fate lies in my past
Not a truth that cannot be denied

Very bad at creating verses
Living the unmusical life
With all the guitars and drums
That i have

…Sahar Raman Deep

 

 

Knowing You

i do know
your name
and your face
and i certainly can
recognize your voice too
it’s been a long time
we have been together

i know a lot about you
your family
your friends
your likes and dislikes

but i am
still looking for you
within you
as if
i do not really know you

…Sahar Raman Deep

 

Personality

my untold story
 of pains and smiles
 is what keeps me
 intact
 should i spill the beans
 all the beans
 in front of
 the world
 always seeking
 something new
 to make fire of
 and crush under feet
 and tease
 for
 friends turn foes
 in times of need
 what shall remain of me
 which i can hold on to
 in the time of loneliness

....Sahar Raman Deep

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Its Christmas time Gift your loved ones loads of love

 


 


Buying Time

He said
After spitting all the venom
Let’s leave now
He looked
Impatient to say good bye
Visibly
Irritated from my presence
Unconsciously though
Love lingered
In some corner of his eyes

Patiently
I ordered dinner

…Sahar Raman Deep

Its Christmas time Gift your loved ones loads of love

They say if you read masterpieces you become a master yourself Get Your classics here

The Beauty of Nature…

The beauty of nature
My love
My beloved
And our belonging-
To each other
To those who are
Our’s
And to the whole world
Which is
A part of us

How blessed are we
To have the world family
Cheering for us
On our biggest day
The day of our union

…Sahar Raman Deep

 

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Light Snow…

Light snow
Paying obescience
At the feet of
Naked trees
Like
Urea nourishing
Wheat fields
Like light
Shining on seas
Like you looking
Into my eyes

…Sahar Raman Deep

 

 They say if you read masterpieces you become a master yourself Get Your classics here

 

 

Creation

I had no idea
What creation feels like
Till the moment
I looked into his eyes
The passion they home
The love they don
And the heart full of thoughts
So that I felt
I was being consumed
By a flame
That was never ending

It felt as if
I had become a seed
Which he had planted
In the ground of his soul
And
By opening myself
Upto the water of his thought
And nutrients of his love
I was sprouting into a bud
Small, yet fresh
With big promises of
Developing into a fruitful tree
Who can generate
Seeds herself

…Sahar Raman Deep

Read  Top Best Selling Books

When I Write…

when i write

i am talking to myself

about the hidden mysteries

of cosmos

i am exploring

what lies hidden

in the obvious

like a woodpecker

digs into the bark

it’s interssting to note

how people make faces

hide behind veils

put on masks

just to seem pleasant

but

break the most precious of all

the hearts of loved ones

stain the most pious

their own souls

when i write

i see through faces

sometimes the ugliness is horrifying

but most of the times

the beauty is mesmerizing

i try and look at the beauty

when i write!

…Sahar Raman Deep

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Trust

i am not a fool
who trusts you more than her life
i am a loving being
pure
as nature had created me
i seek not barter
i love the way
you look at me
with eyes full of awe
and admiration
and wonder
as if
i am the only woman
you have ever seen
all others were
dummies of womanhood

i like it
when you say
i was seeking you
since ages
now that i have you
i am never going to
lose hold of you
you say this silently
by a sheer touch of your hand upon mine

i am not a fool
i am love itself
you have made me
Love!!

…Sahar Raman Deep

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Nothingness

Words
Get lost in my throat
And all that I can do
Is make a fumbling sound
Not even a fumble
It is just
Another sigh
Another breath
A lot needs to be said
But
Too tired am I
Lips do not move
And
Eyes close

To such a level
My nothingness has risen

…Sahar Raman Deep

 

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Story

a story

i want to write

no title it has

no beginning and no end

it is

like the circumference of a star

  • all fire!

the story

that i want to write

is not a story at all

it is the flow of

a dry river

just

nonexistent

from nothingness to being

is a great journey

you seek it

i seek it

he and she seek it

a long journey

and sometimes we

get lost on the way

like my story…

…Sahar Ramandeep

Criminal(s)

somebody
say something
my heart is out
in my throat
leaving my body

he is a lovely person
a loving human
a caring figure

what happened to him?
why did they
stone him?
did the four wise men
who are themselves
as pure as the purity of love
seen him committing crime?
or is it just that
everyone on their own
has become a god themselves?

…Sahar Ramandeep

A Letter to My Love

Some people are more important than stardom or money; so are you. You are not only a person, but my relationship with myself. You are a song that my soul sings. You are the light in which my being seeks to understand Love. You are a you who has made love myself.

A thought: what if you are not real? You may not be real, but the love between us, at this moment in space and time, is more than real than any real can be. It is extraordinary! A moment lived in this living moment is more true than any number of years, centuries or lives lived in a common ‘love’ of give and take, of trust and doubt, of me and you.

Among us, there is no me and you. Among us, it’s a world of stars. Among us, there is unlimited expansion not to be limited by any binaries. Among us, there is only ‘us’; and ‘us’ is of oneness, of non duality, away from the world divided into dimensions.

Sahar Raman Deep.

5/21/17

Generations!

Good were the days
When grandma cooked
And all the children
Sat around her-….

Good were the days
When grandma cooked
And all the children
Sat around her-
Crossed legged, and silent.
The roti took time to bake,
And, we fought for it!
So granny set the turns,
And we would eat
Slowly from our bowls
With small bites of bread
So as not to be done
Before the next chapati came!
Finish we eating,
And off we went
To swim in poodles!

Good were the days
When mom cooked
And we sat on table
With father on the big chair
And ate rice,
And home cooked noodles-
Laughing at small jokes,
And went to bed
With affectionate kisses;
Read a book
And dreamt of morning!

Now my children,
With their heads buried in phones
Wait for food
Ordered online
To fill their bellies!

I sit alone
With my husband
Sipping some soup,
Silent and gloomy.
And I wonder,
When my daughter shall cook….

…… Sahar Raman Deep
1/14/17

In Rawness of Emotions…

In rawness of emotions
In rawness of thought
In rawness of heart
When no seed is bown
I think of humanity
How it has grown!… Read More

In rawness of emotions
In rawness of thought
In rawness of heart
When no seed is sown
I think of humanity
How it has grown!

Humanity meant
Law of jungle in forest
And the only rule
Was to survive
Then came the tribes
And the societies
Where survival was safe
And the need was to thrive.
Being loyal to the group
And to the leader
Was the mandate
Even if it meant
Death to the tenant.

Some saints and sages
Have been talking since ages
Of the particular
And the universal
And saying
Both are one
And the key to this realization
Is freedom, and alas!
Freedom is none!

They say we are free.
Though unchained and unbound
We are bound by
None other than we.
This is the story
Of us humans
Separated from the nature
Who bore us
In her womb
And many others
Whom we have forgotten.

We wait for a the doom!

…. Sahar Raman Deep.
12/14/16

Poem

Write me down
On a piece of paper
And place it securely
In your heart
So that… Read More

Write me down
On a piece of paper
And place it securely
In your heart
So that
Naver can I
Escape thee

Lock me in
The ink of fate
And seal it
With thy name

Put me under
The tip of your pen
That I may sing you
Forever, till eternity!

O royal prince
Content am I
With what you give me
For nothing lies
Beyond your eyes!

Pilgrimage

There is no pilgrimage holier than of self to Self. (Read more…)

On the way home
Back to my heart
Blisters are on feet
And mouth is desert

Back to my roots
After wandering in skies
Having lost all mine
I walk like a monk

Great pilgrimage is this
In the meadows
In the rain
To the alter of me
Standing still-

Since ages!

… Sahar Raman Deep.
11/14/16

Oneness

Everything
Is a distant memory
As if
Ages old …read more

 

Everything
Is a distant memory
As if
Ages old!

Not long ago
We had met
Not long ago
We had parted
Not long ago
I had become
Individual again.

Not long ago
A hope was born
Not long ago
A dream was torn
Not long ago
Nothingness returned

It is just
A couple of days…
Or years?
Or decades?
Or centuries?
In fact,
It has been millenniums.

We have lived
Since then
Parted from one another
With no hope of
Being one again

But now that
I look at him
The divine soul
I have a hope
He will become
A carrier
Who shall bring
Love back to my heart
And a message from you
Of Oneness.

…. Sahar Raman Deep
11/03/16

Us.. .

Not in the mind
Not in the brain
In the serenity of soul
I long for you… read more.

Not in the mind
Not in the brain
In the serenity of soul
I long for you

You, the eternal being
You, the soul of souls
You, the magnificent whole

You, who is born as me
You, who is born as he
You, who is born as us

Our relation is
That of the oneness
We are not three
We are one

We are one
That there is none
Who is not me
Who is not he
Who is not you

It is all us
It is everywhere us
And,
It’s no where us.

… Sahar RD (10/31/16)

Also read Legends .

Refugee Camps

Have you ever felt hopeless? Please participate in the discussion.

 

No,
Nothing new
To look forward to…
Is it called hopelessness?

Since long
They have lived with
All that was,
Having lost
Home, love and future
In hope of
Something better
For their children
Who now play
With broken dreams
In the refugee camps!

… Sahar Raman Deep
10/29/16

Also read The Legends .

Abortion

Is abortion a woman’s right over her body or a criminal act? What do you feel?

From nowhere
His gaze can observe
As she
In her uncomfortable nest
Watches over her little one

Like the moon
Like the stars
He can be seen
But not reached

His son
Who looks exactly like him
Seems to be asking
Where is my father?
And she has
No answer
What should she tell him?
That his coming to life
Was an accident
Which his father
So despised
And hated her
For carrying him?

Oh boy!
She loved him much
And could have done
Anything for him
And he was right
Nor he
Or she
Was ready, for the big change

How much
She suffered!
Without a family
Without her love.
And that tumor!
She could have died!

He had the freedom
So he left
She did not have
So she is struck
For life
In that brief moment of
Love long lost!

…. Sahar Raman Deep
10/27/16

Lost in the Wide

When Self is lost, everything is lost.

I am
Looking for a creature
Long lost
Who I used to call ‘me’.

No clue of
Where she’s gone
No clue
What corner of universe
She is in
She used to say
The whole world is mine,
Earth is my home
And heart is shrine.

Whose heart now
Should I peep into
Which particle on earth
I dig deep
No where is she
No where is she

Such people
Who do not
Have a self
Get lost easily
In the wide

They are
Laughed upon
Because they are different
They are thought, To be like
The crow who wore
A peacock feather
And not the peacocks
Nor the crows
Accepted him henceforth.

But she was different
She was not the one
To be lost in the mob
Nor was she a crow
Or a peacock
She was the essence
Of Love
And Love was she
Indeed!

Was that me?
Now I wonder
Lost in the
Hustle of life
Wandering in
Many separated streets
The idea of unity
Is an alien.
And Love?
There is none.
Union is Love
Not the unity
Which now I have
With myself
And, I don’t know who…

…. Sahar Raman Deep
10/19/16

Empty Vessel

Love, when pure and soulful, is fearless.

The empty vessel
Of my love
Rattles in
The monuments

None aware
Of my pathos
Hangs out
And has fun

A yogi when
Loves the world
Gifts his heart
And soul together

If you and I
Could love like this
No fear’ll be
Left in any den

… Sahar RD
10/20/16

Catharsis

I wanted to live the moment,
You wanted to die with past!
Not a surprise,
Our relation did not last.

I could never be
A part of your catharsis,
This is the reason
Why you left me.
I wanted you to smile with me,
You had lived enough in the past. Now I wanted you to come
Live in the present
And enjoy the moment.
But, perhaps,
You were not
Ready for that.
My fault, I did not want
You to laugh and look
Like as if you were crying.
I wanted you to laugh
And smile from heart.
I did not want your brain
To be always preoccupied
And you to look
Stone eyed.
I wanted your eyes
To rejuvenate,
Be full of life,
Giving life.
But you refused
To be apart of my life,
The very same way
I refused to be
A part of your catharsis.

… Sahar Raman Deep
10/16/16

Nectar of Love

Nectar of Love is, Love itself!

This sun
And the rain!
When they get together
Creation happens

These bees
And the flowers!
When they mate
Honey comes to existence

This self
And the Ultimate
Make you and me
This is the only
Nectar of Love
You am I
I am thee.

… Sahar Raman Deep (10/14/16)

The Deadly Truth

I loved him
As he was
And
He loved me
As he wanted!

I know
The deadly truth
You
No more
Belong to me.

The fact is,
That you were never mine.
I have not lost you
In fact, I have found you
In your absence

When you were there,
I would fight with you
Shout at you
Humiliate you
Now
At least I realize
That I love you.

You always wanted
That I agree with you
Follow your steps
Say yes to everything you said
So that
You may love me.
I always sensed
That stiffness in your character
That never bends
But can break.
I did not want to break.
I chose my integrity.

Should I have chosen you
And lose myself
With time
And become incapable
Of loving
Anyone in the world?
Even my own kids?
And become guilty
In my own eyes,
And theirs.
How could I teach them
Self respect
When I had none?

I know,
Our ways have separated
Still, we walk
Hand in hand
In each other’s heart
I know you love me
And you know
That I love you,
Doesn’t matter
You think otherwise.

…Sahar Raman Deep

10/13/16

Motherhood

Far away in the woods
There lived a lioness
She was wild and fierce
Terrifying and scary
The queen of jungle!
All and one bowed to her
And would get out of way
Whenever she went out.

But,
She was a mother too.
Soft and loving
Caring and affectionate
She played with her cubs.
She milk fed them
But now they were growing.
She needed to feed them more
So she killed.
She needed to feed their father
So she hunted.
After all, the father
Took care of her kids.
What ever was left
She ate herself,
She, too, had to survive.

In the same forest
There lived a goat too.
She was not wild
And she was not fierce
Nor was she the queen of jungle.
She was a common citizen
Or, a subject
To the royal family.
But, she too was a mother,
She too breast fed her kids,
And now they were growing up.
So she taught them
To eat grass and leaves.
She taught them
How to avoid
Being picked by thorns
While eating them.
She taught them
To run fast
In case of danger.

The kids were naughty
And played with each other.
They would go
Far away in the jungle
And the mother would warn them,
“The lion will eat you someday!”

Kids were kids
And the world was a fairy tale.

One day,
The lioness was
Looking for her prey.
Her cubs had not eaten for days.
Their father had threatened
To eat her children
If he did not
Get anything to eat soon.
She too was
Almost starving.
She was wandering in the forest
And a ray of hope
Struck her eyes.
The goat’s lamb
Was playing with bushes.
Happy, and full of life,
He was enjoying his food.
But little did he know
The lioness was thinking
Of making him
Her own dinner.
She started to move
Towards the lamb
Silent and focused
Ready to kill and feed her kids.

As the chance would have it,
The mother goat happened to be there.
She sensed the danger
And called for her son
But the young kid
Was on the seventh heaven
And did not pay head
To his mother’s pleas.

The lioness,
Silent and focused
Leaped upon the lamb
And the mother goat,
Not thinking anything
But of her child
Acted quickly.
She came in the lioness’s way
And took her baby in her lap.
The lioness roared with great anger
Fierce she was
To have missed her prey.
And, she leapt again.

As is the way of nature,
And the instinct of survival,
One mother
Killed the other.

As the queen
Was dragging her prey
The li’l scared lamb
Fell out of dead mom’s arms.
Terrified, he looked at the predator
And as their eyes met
He began to cry
And coiled himself
Within himself.

The mother lioness
Thought of her cubs
This little child
Looked like them
When they would get scared
While their mom
Would start to leave them
Alone with their father.

A wave of warmth
Passed through her heart
And she forgot her kill.
She licked the little one
Affectionately
And carried him gently
To a safe place.

…. Sahar RD

10/3/16