A SHERD..



The solitary bench by the quiet riverside,
Looking too old, tired and dry eyed,
Alone since long, she shed all her tears,
Into the overflowing river.



She has seen generations go by,
Some happy, some lonely and wry,
Seen boys growing up to be macho men,
Small girls, flower into beautiful women.



Smiles and fights, both she has seen,
She knows how the past has been,
As the present changes to past,
The future changing to present fast.



Many a love story matured near her,
She watched quietly as the stories recurred,
The characters and seasons changed,
Some lovers united, few drew apart, were estranged.



Many lonely mothers sat on her
To shed a few lonesome tears,
A few desolate fathers too, sad and forsaken,
Sat with her, unloved and forlorn.



She has witnessed the guns fire,
Things falling to the enemy's ire,
Heard the tapping hooves of sturdy shires
Pass her, as she quietly spent the scary hours there.



She has heard people talk of God,
Being helped in their miseries by the Lord,
Will 'He' help her out of here!
In weariness, she wonders.



Will 'He' in front of her appear!
Can her rickety self, make herself endeared?
Will she be passed by like an eidolon? Or admired?
Or just left there like a sherd!
Will she be heard,
To be finally taken with 'Him'; all her prayers answered.


©Madhumita