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Saturday, January 26, 2013

Village and I

Life in the village is what sustains me still
But moving out was a necessity
Hard in the beginning
Soon questions of settling down arose
Village is ruled out for many practical reasons
Fondness and attachment give way to
Questions of existence
Village is now part of a beautiful nostalgic
Dream, no chance to regain
The charming aspects have all gone
Long since the well has been used and cleaned
It is a dangerous pit rather than a well with its
Inexhaustible cold, sweet water
Weeds grow from the sides hiding the view
Of the watery circle below
Reflecting the sky in its scary but enthralling manner
No water is so refreshing and trustworthy as the water
We brought up from that dear well
Now a relic evoking pain and memories indelible
The pond in the fields where green frogs
Sat on the grassy banks camouflaged ,
Basking in the sun, their protruding eyes closed partially
Is not there anymore, nor are those plantain trees and
Pepper vines, it is sort of wilderness
Life has drained off the fields
The master is not there to tend
And marvel at the flourish
Plants refuse to grow, weeds cover the land
Life is changed for good or for the worse
Time will reveal but essence is gone
If only the goodness of the past could
Mix up with the present and make it
Fuller, more satisfying
Thus wiping away nostalgic longings
Making survival more like living

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