Guldasta

A bouquet of flowers picked along the way ….

Haystack again August 9, 2007

Filed under: life,poetry — gurdas @ :

Continued from Haystack

.

The old man got busy again
Labouring hard many winter and rain
He soon lost all count of days
And forgot his sons and their wayward ways
 
The Gods were kind and the produce good
But his wife no longer beside him stood
A content woman she was in her last days
For she built a school where children play
 
Then one day he got a letter
And tears streamed down his sharp cheekbones
Mackaw, his son, had written an apology
Saying that he did wrong back then
 
He wanted his parents to come stay with him
And promised to take good care of both
And many other stories he told
To try undo the mistake of old
 
So the old man too a letter wrote
In which he first forgives his son
And then continues to write this
That the field is where his heart is
 
Because the soil never gave up on him
And he is too old to try new things
So though now a son he has to call his own
The haystack still in the moonlight shone

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