Sometimes, I look at my ten-year-old
foster son Rahul's face and peep into his mind. In spite of my caring efforts I
can't do away with some of his traumas and fears.
In His Hand Leave the Rest
My memories grope to sketch
My faraway father’s face
My mother’s shape somewhat
In broken lines I can trace
Once or twice she visited me
I wonder where she must be
I’ve got a “Papa” in the house
He loves me a lot
But I know well like others
My father, he is not
My “Mummy” cares for me tenderly
But she too is a mother given to me
My brothers and sisters really
I can’t say, are mine
The home I live in, is a shelter
Though it’s quite fine
I get what I need - clothes, drink and food
But who am I - I often think and brood
Mummy calls my name with
Melodious loving voice
Papa pulls me to his heart
When he wishes to rejoice
I forget my loneliness for a while
That is the time I laugh and smile
What may be the meanings of
The beaconing stars of hope?
To which anchor can a child’s mind
Fasten his future’s rope?
Like a dry leaf in gale I am blown
Which tree can I call my own?
Rahul, my son, for your future
You need not fret or fear
Accept what Love gives you
Gifts present and near
Life is a package, make of it, the best
In the loving hand of God, leave the rest.
My faraway father’s face
My mother’s shape somewhat
In broken lines I can trace
Once or twice she visited me
I wonder where she must be
I’ve got a “Papa” in the house
He loves me a lot
But I know well like others
My father, he is not
My “Mummy” cares for me tenderly
But she too is a mother given to me
My brothers and sisters really
I can’t say, are mine
The home I live in, is a shelter
Though it’s quite fine
I get what I need - clothes, drink and food
But who am I - I often think and brood
Mummy calls my name with
Melodious loving voice
Papa pulls me to his heart
When he wishes to rejoice
I forget my loneliness for a while
That is the time I laugh and smile
What may be the meanings of
The beaconing stars of hope?
To which anchor can a child’s mind
Fasten his future’s rope?
Like a dry leaf in gale I am blown
Which tree can I call my own?
Rahul, my son, for your future
You need not fret or fear
Accept what Love gives you
Gifts present and near
Life is a package, make of it, the best
In the loving hand of God, leave the rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment