Ungrateful Child

Standing over the edge of the cliff

I breathe the salty air

I won’t say I feel nostalgic

For what’s to remember

About this spray from the ocean

Except that I stood once more here

Holding onto my mother’s finger

Her eyes dried and bloodshot

From the crying of the previous night

Her night gown flowing

With the intensity of the wind.

She had stood like that

For a long time

Perhaps making her mind

To take me along or not.

She could not part ways

With her most precious gem

So she dragged me along too

But I resisted and cried

And then she left my hand

Calling me an ungrateful child.

Now I stand here again

At the same spot

But no one to hold my finger

Neither a mother nor a child,

Making my mind

Should I take the plunge

Or should I stay behind?

The ocean calls me

Making seductive sounds

The voices in my head

Keep telling and yelling

It’s just another path

But a little voice near my heart

Says my path is the other way

From where I came running

Afraid of life.

Should I give another chance?

It’s the instinct for survival

That wins again

And I return back to the world

A little ungrateful child.

Picture courtesy : peaceroad.wordpress.com



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