Traveller

Traveller

2 mins 398 2 mins 398


The very first time

My mother's healing touch

Tapped my forehead,

I felt God's travelled down

Here in this peculiar earth

To heal me up from the fever.


A sunken soul released out of me,

Turned as rejuvenated as a fresh lemon leaf

And I touched the toes of my mother

As per God's very secret advice from the previous night.

I wasn't a vivid worshipper of travel

Until and unless I felt the presence of God 

Everywhere slowly trickling down

Through the silver streams of time.


Time's travelled a lot, even I call it the best traveller

It's seen Jesus dying without any vice

Just like a poem dies without a reader's embrace

And time's probably poured all the sobs out

Freezing the moments and collecting the snaps

As if it was to unravel the malicious truth in front

Of an ignorant crowd, later, very later 

To repeatedly portray 

The sickening death of its precious child

And people have travelled enough to size 

These epic memories up in a 24 hour, "Christmas"!


It's tasted the same poison Socrates drank

For his cruel deed of renaissance 

Among the youth of Athens,

And yes time has travelled through 

A sickening era of its huge loss 

Like a hollow human body without its organ!

It's seen through the ages that

The countries suffer in a subterraneous syndrome

Of travelling and entering into each other's territories 

To stand as the best fitted emperors 

And suck the last drop of blood from its innocent folks.


Time has seen a lot,

Freedom, battle, idols, ideologies, 

Love, hatred, blood, responsibilities

And then with God's appeasing 

Permission shaped itself up to the pages of history;

Now history serves as the best traveller!

And we, humans know the utilization of books.

I find the books as avid tourists

As they skillfully make rounds of the world

And then coalesced with the satisfying words and curious pages to turn as books.


And all these existential procedures,

God's evolutionized in as many forms as he could

To insert the mesmerizing journey 

Of this universe since its very creation.

We, humans aren't except of the flow,

Each and every moment we breathe,

We travel, as a traveller voyages from a place to another like we do through 

The voyages of emotions.

The next time if someone asks,

"Are you a traveller?"

Nod your head, singing the lullabies of a nomad. 



Rate this content
Log in

More english poem from Suchismita Ghoshal

Similar english poem from Drama