STRANGER ON HIS OWN LAND
by rado gatchalian
the Word says we are all the same:
but as I travel on the train
we are all strangers -
walking on our own possessive garments;
each mind - away from
silence, tears, isolation -
each man is a god of unknown
the eye meets the eye
but we see a face of a lost child
the ears hear various voices
but words - altered and void
we keep on coming and going,
searching and losing:
some may cross the village unseen by time
others venture on a land where no names are known
few will visit a temple of purple and brown
many will stay in a place they do not want
the day when these carriages
can no longer carry our burden -
i will bear the cross on my own,
and live on mountains where everyone is welcome.
© Copyright 2016 Rahula Lama. All rights reserved.
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