My Father – A Poem

dad

If I have to write a poem about my father

it has to be about integrity

and kindness —

the selfless kind of kindness

that is so very rare

I am sure there will be many people

living somewhere who must be as kind as him

but what I mean to say is

I have not met one yet

 

and when it comes to helping others

he always helps too much

and as the saying goes —

help someone, you earn a friend.

help someone too much,

you make an enemy. —

so you know the gist of what

I’m trying to say here

 

anyways I was talking about the

poem about my father

it has to be about

passion

and hard work

because you see

you cannot separate these

things from him

they are part of him as his two eyes and

two hands and his heart and his soul

and his whole being

and you cannot separate

wind and waves

or living and the universe

or earth and heavens

and although he never got any

award from bureaucracy

the students he taught ages ago

still touch his feet and some

of them are the people

you have to make

an appointment to meet even if

it is for two minutes of their time

and that’s a reward for him

bigger than any other that

some of his colleagues got

for their flattery

 

and also I have to write about

reliability as well

as the sun always rises

and the snowflakes are always six-folds

and the spring always comes

and the petals of a sunflower and every flower

follows the golden ratio of symmetry

my father never fails to

keep his promise

 

I have to mention the rage as well

that he always carries inside him

like a burning fire

for wrongdoings

for injustice

 

and now

he carries a bitterness too

for people-

who used him good

and discarded-

as it always happens with every good man

in our world of humans

 

and you must be thinking he has

learned his lessons well

you go to him —

it does not matter who you are

if he knows you

or you are a stranger from

other side of the world —

and ask for his help

he will be happy to do so

 

as you must know

people

never change

not their soul in any case.

– Neena H. Brar

(Copyrights Held)

 

 

 

 

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