Only 15 minutes but I
was once a child and if my
father was ever late
I would hate
the very thought of ever
trusting him..no never..
'cause children reach results
unawares of teething issues plaguing adults.
I saw him.
He ran towards me
and fast as his legs could fly
and hugged me,I could see him cry
but did not want to show
him, that his father cried more.
So I combed his hair
and wiped perspiration bare
from his temples and sat
quietly in the car,unable to chat
as we usually did,for I'd crack,
If we tried talking during the ride back
From then he seemed moving
away from me and I knew it was my doing
in arriving late,making him a hostage bound
to the silent lonely sights and sounds
of the stone and wood
aware of being misunderstood
our relations strained
from the day it rained.
Till today,I see the shadow of the past,
in our conversations last,
and I want to raise word
of that day when the Rain sawed
through our happy arrangement
to our present estrangement.
But I do not know if he moves away thinking of past,
or that every father-son relationship is bound to doom at last.
All I can do is pray for a second breath,as I have for years done,
Life, to give a chance to a Father,to prove worthy in front of his Son.
[Read first:
"Rainy days,Many memories..."
Someone asked for the Father's perspective...]
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