Said the wind to me
I bring you voices from across the world
and did I hear them?
The voices in the wind
The first of hunger spoke
and how it cried for food
I pick up my pen to write
of the hungry man in the street
The next spoke of oppression
of the big man cheating the small
of the government blindfolding the people
so I pick up my pen to write
Another I heard cry of affliction
It spoke of wars guns and bombs
of maiming and killing
so I pick up my pen to write
The voice of mourning I also heard
of widows and orphans calling out their grief
so I pick up my pen to write
One voice of poverty spoke
of lack of shelter and of life threatening diseases
so I pick up my pen to write
Then I heard the voice of the betrayed
and the cry of the jilted beat strongly on my ear
that I could feel their painful loss
so I pick up my pen to write
When I had written all of these
I thought that I was done
on my bed I laid my wearied body to sleep
yet the wind brought more voices to whisper in my ears
and these ones did put sleep to flight
the voice of the earth brought me back to life
crying of disembodiment
weeping for the murder of her children
that her voice may be heard
I pick up my pen to write
I heard the drunkard’s voice
and that of the drug addict too
how they cry for help!
That others may hear their plea
I pick up my pen to write
I heard a cry of agony
from the unformed throat of the aborted child
and cry I did with him
I cried for the torture he was made to bear and
for his voice which will never be heard
I pick up my pen to write
Then I heard a song of joy
of the newly wed
of them to whom a child is born and
of those that are full of the joy of life
so I pick up my pen to write
I also heard a voice speak
of innocence still alive
I heard one speak of hope and
I thought the world this voice must hear
so I pick up my pen to write
I write of the foolishness of man and of his atrocities
I write of man’s joys and also of his love
I write of man’s pains and agonies
I write of what he sees
what he feels and what he thinks,
of these I write as well
I write of everything and anything
the voices I hear crying in the wind
I write so that those whose ears cannot hear
may read and be wise…
One day as I sat quietly listening,
to the sounds of the world around me.
I heard the sounds of War, Poverty, and Homelessness,
People laughing, Children Crying.
Ocean Waves crashing, Seagulls calling,
The voices of Choir singing filled my ears.
When I was finished,
My heart was full of sadness.
I asked God,
"What can I do?"
I listened for my answer,
Silence was all I heard.
Suddenly, Thunder roared,
and TEARS fell to the earth from Heaven.
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This life it burns like a perpetual torch
With death's dark shadow upon my porch
Nightmares pass and I'm dying in mud
The cities have sunk, I survived the flood
Crippled by crimes, no longer the hope
Of people's dreams who could not cope
Winning the wars, beating the foe
Does it all really matter, how could we know?
But I will not sit and ponder why
We brought ourselves to the edge of the sky
And the eyes of children will no more cry
Of all my prayers, don't let them die.
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What a true piece of poetry Nihal. I love the title and the way you have personified wind as a voice carrier. The poem proceeds in a very grim manner but it is so very realistic and heart rending... However, the ending is very optimistic as it should be :)
Its shares some similarity of thought with Voices in the Wind, but the ending is definitely very powerful... You have great writing skills... share more often :)
Thanks Fara. I used to write and post a lot on the net before. But then things started to get stolen. But then I realised these are only words!
Am still writing and very active with a Russian forum. It is sort of govenment owned and they put me on radio there!
I have been reading your work too. Infact when I read your 'Hamesha Ki Terhaan', that made me sign up for this forum! Very beautiful thoughts......
I will surely be posting more 'words' soon.
When I heard the learned astronomer
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in
columns before me
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add,
divide, and measure them
When I sitting heard the astronomer
where he lectured with much applause in the lecture room
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wandered off
by myself,
In the mystical moist night air
and from time to time
Looked up in perfect silence at the stars.....
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So much of reality in a single piece of poetry. I love the simplicity and the innocence with which you described everything. No out-of-the-earth flight of imagination, simply what we see all around us. Terrific expression NihalK :k: … thanx a lot for sharing this beauty with us
Thank you Amal. Voices..., War and one another poem have all also once gone to the United Nations and been read and appreciated by Kofi Annan himself. Sadly some years ago when I had posted Voices... on the net someone stole it and I had to fight a copyright battle with the person. But I won eventually as years ago I had already got it chronicled with 'The Society of Authors'.
About simplicity and innocence, I donno. Its just that I am very sensitive to everything around me. There are a lot of battles of wild emotions in my heart. A lot of storms. None caused by the bad weather. I have a lot to say. And sometimes I manage to do that. I pick up my pen to write....
A voice from the heart is like sounds of a rushing sea,
The tide rushing in is a voice calling me.
Turning and tossing all day in my mind,
Is a stirring of chatter my heart cannot find.
One voice from a shadow caresses my heart,
My heart and my mind will soon set apart.
From above the clouds is a strong mighty voice,
Directing my path and leaving me no choice.
So away with my mind and away with my thought,
The sounds of the rushing sea and tides I will no longer sought.
For there is a voice so still yet so mild,
My heart can contain the voice as innocent as a child.
Peace and tranquility are what my heart sets in.
For Allah's is the Voice that my heart will endure.
The seas and the shadows I will fear no more.
**For one short act, a child; next act, a boy
In love; then poor; a short act to enjoy
Status and wealth: till in the last act, Man,
Painted with wrinkles, body bent with age,
Ending the comedy which birth began,
Withdraws behind the curtain of life’s stage.
Touching your goodness, I am like a man
Who turns a letter over in his hand
And you might think this was because the hand
Was unfamiliar but, truth is, the man
Has never had a letter from anyone;
And now he is both afraid of what it means
And ashamed because he has no other means
To find out what it says than to ask someone.
His uncle could have left the farm to him,
Or his parents died before he sent them word,
Or the Fair girl changed and want him for beloved.
Afraid and letter-proud, he keeps it with him.
What would you call his feeling for the words
That keep him rich and orphaned and beloved?
Hand in clasped hand and side pressed close to side,
Silently stand some children of the poor,
And shyly, hungry eyes aside,
Observe the eater through the half-open door.......
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The wind blows slowly,
As I can see the zenith glow.
I can feel the air dance,
On the tunes of the chime that plays so slow.
Every bit of me can feel it,
The emancipation of this moment.
So let me go for it,
Don’t impede my flow.
So let me have a silent walk in the clouds,
Let not my footsteps sound aloud.
Let this dream continue,
It is so intoxicating,
Don’t wake me up my friend.
Even if the dark night changes to morning.
Let a shadow fall across the face of the moon
You will loose its glittering glow
The moonlight, piercing the endless night
Hopeful inspiration, sure but slow
Let the world whirl you away
Surrender your soul to the wind’s song
Lose yourself in the past, present and future
They will mean the same before long
Let moonlight illuminate your dreams
Which creativity will pursue and chase
Into a morass of destiny’s hope
Softly shining, still, with immortal grace
Let time forget your wandering mind
Obviate the knowledge of space
Simply recall happy memory
The sad vanish, without a trace
Let each silver beam fall across your face
As loving warmth rekindles inside of you
Suddenly, eternal possibility weighs the air
And shimmering moonlight will assist your view
Let the moon’s soft glow entrance you
And though it’s gentle touch disappears by day
The sensation should be cherished faithfully
Your misery, unnoticed, will fade away
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