Past Is Still Present

Though ink-business days-

The days of long, long letters

And long, long waiting-are gone,

I keep waiting like an ancient bride

For a brown cover, which I know,

Will bring an emotional tide.

I know, it will talk about many things:

The stolen cows and old dead oxen,

Ruined rabbi crops and untimely rain.

Sometimes it takes me

Hundred years back

And I forget that I live

In the jet and pepsi age.

I see oxen, plough and spade

Still herald the day

Followed by labour march

And breakfast carrying mothers,

Sisters, wives or children.

It reminds me of the time

I spent my days in sublime:

Rainy days and cloudy nights,

Gloomy mornings and evenings bright;

Talk and walk, dusk and dawn,

Joy and mirth, bigger than crown.