The Wait

The old woman waits in her wooden chair
whiling time, much to spare,
fingers moving, beads of prayer
belie an ardent, eager stare

A door bell rings not so far
the woman smiles, it is the hour,
rushes to her window sill
and lovingly waves out to her star

The neighbour's six year old waves back
red water bottle, purple bag
a word or two, he goes indoors
she does the same, to where she sat

-Amit

Child Arrives

A med report
Couple despairs
Dream is lost
Unanswered prayers

For

Dimpled smile
Two bright eyes
Tiny hands
Cherubic cries

Then

Hope renewed
A children's home
Couple rejoices
Mercy shown

Comes the big day
Anxious dawn
Child arrives
Mother is born

-Amit

The Prompter

I visit a moment,
a familiar blur
or a frequent dream
that is yet to occur

A dark stage is set,
an unlit concert
and i play out the part
of the prompter, unheard

from the curtains i peep
and watch a strange man weep
besides beasts with masks
who roll their heads and ask
to sing them a fable, and run down his past

but the strange man appears to have forgotten his lines
and the wild beasts continue to feast on their crimes
and his cup overflows as they start to dine
and ambition falls a drop at a time

Should i help this man, from the curtains i stare
undecided i watch in despair,
and, waiting, impatient, comes the end of his strife,
by death of will, and a beast with a knife
as he crumbles down and falls to his knee
the dying man turns to the curtains and me
in horror i watch the blood flow like wine
the strange man's face starts to look like mine
and that's me on my knee and my blood flows like wine
as the strange man peeps from the curtains behind

and black fog rises, and soothes the eyes,
and his teardrops fall,
apologise
for the parts he turned down
for the stage he ignored
when he needed to act
he played the prompter, unheard

-Amit