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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
A journey you may recollect yet in making. So much in the life's harvest that may spring. :)

Submitted: August 18, 2015

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Submitted: August 18, 2015



In their voice that embrace my Mother India,
When Her every child is a gift of God's love for humanity,
A home for every common man may tribute this highest cause,
When we welcome every visitor like our Gods,
Our common home love remaking of their unity in diversity,
Yet being an Indian connect oldest culture ever in existence,
I pay my homage before this tradition of blessings,
Early before sunrise an ancient prayer sparkle revocation before our footsteps,
When young story sprinkle all the colors fingers shade in recreation,
A home welcome song of the nightingale captivating this youngest Indian towards awakeness,
Here faith hideout a language hiding away from the breath of an industrious villager,
When our people make way for this journey streets wrinkle in the presence of sweetest receptions,
A gesture of friendliness carve morning toddy from the nearby coconut tree,
Some awake early for drenching rubber tree for its precision scales,
Young hearts sing their query making lots of noise unheard back with kids screaming out for attention,
Here starts our morning full of vintage bonds with care and compassion all along every touch of falling in love,
At home this companion feels the minds full of twisting emotions,
May be the whole time a new menu bakes somewhere serving our breakfast,
Soon we visit around cooked baskets poured from sweetest outlets of the kitchen,
Flushing small talk when all runs these newsletters daily around neighborhood incidence,
A cup of tea brings back our time making lite freedom till the last slip taste its vacancy,
May be we are reminded someone at home far away wheb we work here,
Yet unaccountable hard labour spring season of harvest back in their evenings,
At work we toll presence of a shop full of selling skills,
Rarely are our people devoid of talents,
With opportunity where their sacrement tale begins in a land full of real life pages,
Each day as our kids grow up we owe them support for the brightest steps of a generation ahead,
Yet this upbringing may gift all lifes utmost ceremony in their new home with true life partner,
Sometimes may this wish bring back a grace for all bonds helping us pounded when we need them the most,
Yet our wish may remain for all their good heart in time so precious to be loved with care and respect,
In the end of this day when rain seeds out all time away from its tear drops of cry,
Finally at the end of a series as episode shrink its final note,
A new season starts with the burst of heaven above,
When all hope devotes in this prayer,
From one destiny in touch far away from silence,
A longest day starts its camp before the open book waiting at home,
I wrote one page today,
Many will rewrite this page again,
Soon we may join in this endless pursuit of happiness,
This day I feel the essence of one journey has made this tribute of its dream,
May be it is still mysterious for the whole unknown source for a note in the final page,
Yet I feel being at home is the mightiest wish we keep wherever we are.

© Copyright 2018 abyskaria. All rights reserved.

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