Beneath the rubble

It’s four days since Iam beneath the rubble,

Without food, without water, without fresh air,

Eyelids drooping with sleep.

Smile wistful, sometimes euphoric, sometimes pensive.

 

Catapulted in a weird world,

I am stringing

The scattered pearls of my life

While the adrenaline is rushing in my veins.

I see my childhood days,

A world torn by strife,

And my grieving heart bleeding

For the wounded and the widowed.

I can hear my friends

Playing under the mango tree

And my dog barking

And chasing them playfully.

 

Then, I see myself growing fast as an adolescent,

Expanding my learning experience

While my voice stabilizes

And my beards grow thicker.

 

I see my first love Koirala,

So beautiful, so innocent,

So caring and so loving.

Where is she now?

Is she beneath the rubble

Just like me, somewhere?

Is she waiting for me?

 

God, these three days were like three generations,

And I have eliminated

All shadows of sin from my heart.

My heart is bleeding

Just like my hands.

It is all, I believe, a cleansing process.

I am clean now.

I know what is life all about.

Lord, set me free.

 

Pramila Khadun

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About pramilakhadun

I am the holder of a Bsc degree in Food and Nutrition from S.N.D.T University,Pune,India.Have taught this subject in a private institution for almost thirty-five years.Currently, I am retired and travel alot with my husband Raj, daughters Dr Rajnee and Priyum and son Airline Captain.Had my first book of poetry published by Minerva press, London and other two in Mauritius.More coming soon.I love poetry and enjoy reading poems of poets across the world and I feel Destiny Poets is the right place for me.

5 thoughts on “Beneath the rubble

  1. Lopa Banerjee

    Such engaging, deeply moving poem! Loved reading every line and felt the pain that gave birth to it…
    love,
    Lopa.

    Reply

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