For so many years my shadow floated by on the tiny waves
For you to return
Remembering your words promising to not forget me
Or all of us here
Who lived and breathed
and walked this road
Until we heard only Silence
Each night our souls whirled around on the tips of the dark green water peering over the shoulders of the waves
Waiting for their special someone to return,
And for me, it was you.
All thirteen years of you standing there with your parents.
When I heard your voice read out my name aloud
I cried into the water
And soon we were all floating on the tearful waves
listening to your sweet shrill Indian accent
Reading aloud each and every one of our names
You didn’t forget
And while the other shadows have drifted to sleep I shall float along
these deep green waves waiting
For you to return with your wife and children.
—-Lest We Forget——-
While exploring the Jewish quarter of Amsterdam on a family vacation my son felt compelled to walk down the quiet road by the canal in Nieuwe Keizersgracht. He ran up to the plaques on the banks of the canal and called out to us to see and hear him say out the names out loud individually while he folded his hands in prayer. We discovered we were at the Schaduwwade memorial listing names on the plaques opposite their homes of more than 200 Jewish residents of Nieuwe Keizersgracht who were killed during WW2 . And thank God for sending us a reminder to never forget.
Mita Bhan 2018. All Rights Reserved.
Old souls have seen many lifetimes.
And have lived on land and sea,
Old souls understand Life more
the sadness, the anger the grief
Fancy cars, Designer Labels, Tech trends
And the Ladder
Isn’t of much importance
Old souls want just one thing
And that’s never to be reborn
Human existence just tires them
From being here too long
Their souls cry to mingle with a myriad of lights
Sprinkling sparkling coloured beams
Somewhere beyond the night.
So how do you tell an old soul?
Just look into their eyes.
If you see the deep deep ocean
Or a teardrop that stays
You know you’ve met an old gold soul
Who’s waiting for a flight.
Copyright Mita Bhan. All Rights Reserved.