Moving away is moving towards

Like a wildflower on a sunny slope
She waved her hands as she came along
In her eyes we saw resilient hope
And in her words was a heartfelt song
‘You’re here,’ we asked, ‘how’s your husband, dear?’
‘In the city of dreams and fine for sure.’
‘Why then aren’t you with him and why here?’
‘Love for my village and parents, the lure,’
Said she with a smile, her eyes betrayed
She missed her husband, her family
For months now with her parents she’s stayed
Though all knew who she now craved to see.
‘A few more months and then I shall go
To that city of dreams to be with him
And then my life shall not seem so low
Nor sad, nor torn, and neither so grim.’

This is a story we often hear
Then think if a city can ever match
Nature’s songs ever so pure and clear
Houses that don’t really need a latch
Cattle that forever build new trails
Winds that whistle through gaps in the trees
Lungs on treacherous slopes and yet no wails
Steps on slopes with a crop that will wave
Neighbours who just stop and smile and share…
City folk must be differently brave
Give a new meaning to even care.

‘Things will be quite different there,’ I say
She listens with a nod of her head
‘I know how different shall be each day
In newspapers I have often read
But this is my life, my destiny
I’ll go wherever I have to go
I shall be whatever I shall be
I shall build my home and I shall grow
With what life gives and with what is mine
If this is destiny, it is fine!’

.

.

.

Moving away is moving towards – a poem, a story

.

.

.

Arvind Passey
15 April 2016