The Lost Spring

The growth of young saplings,
They emerge from the ground,
It is their time to shine.
The birth of a new being,
It emerges from the womb,
Bringing tears of joy at it's first whine.

They wait for the sun,
Dark, dead months of cold weather are gone,
The sun is supposed to shine, it has to propel their growth.
But this year around it's broken its unforgivable oath.

They were waiting, he would be their first,
A man they would raise, proud parents they would be,
But it was a girl, a beautiful child,
Cast away she was, an infant, in her sleep.

The saplings stay underground,
It's cold and upsetting,
The monotony of loneliness and fading hope sets in,
They wonder quietly what they could've done wrong.

Their thoughts are reflected by the girl on the streets,
Confused and lost, she's just a child can't they see?
She has no where to go and no one to meet,
Terrified, she just goes and falls at God's feet.

Buried deep underground,
The plants are just giving up,
When they hear His voice, loud and clear,
Forbidding them from succumbing to fear.

The girl, she stumbles out and sees,
A little shoot barely poking out,
Reaching for the stars it seems,
Strained with figmental effort it teems.

Tears come streaming down her face,
As she realizes she's part of something big,
She feels wanted and belonged to the core,
Something she's never felt before.

She steadies herself and crouches down,
The shoot is barely visible,
But to her it is a crucial sign of hope,
To overcome her helplessness it gives her scope.

Twenty years she promises hence,
When she's made it through the perils of life,
When she's watching her own daughter on a swing,
She's going to laugh about this lost spring.

44

Life presents us all with obstacles. Mine was given to me in the form of my dad. A well read, well versed person, my father is a no nonsense yet caring guy. Every human has two sides to them. My dad is the best example.Where most fathers give their children money to order something for lunch when their friends come over, my dad stands in the heat of the kitchen and makes pasta. Yet, where most fathers are the laid back ones that give in to their kid's wants and needs after two days of nagging, mine stays firm until he sees a reason to give in. Where most fathers console their daughters after a break up by handing the responsibility over to the mother, mine sits and makes fun of the ex with me. Where most fathers choose to go sit by the poolside or pub in some foreign country with their friends, mine chooses a mountain and decides the best possible way to make a family holiday out of climbing it. In a world where genuinely caring men are hard to find, my father is an exception.
When I was young, I remember referring to my father as my role model. He was everything I wanted to be and I revered him. On your birthday dad, I want to remind you that that little girl who thought you were the most amazing person in the world still lives somewhere nestled deep inside.
I want to to attribute my being such a strong person and individual to my father. Thank you for pushing me, steering me back on track when I was going off and praising me when you thought I deserved it.
Disagree as we do, on some things, my mother is right; my father and I are very alike. Both stubborn, defiant yet loving and thoughtful.
To the biggest Mark Knopfler fan I know,
Happy 44th Birthday Dad,
I love you.

Current Affairs

The clock ticks on,
People go rushing past,
They come and they go,
They make no impressions that last.

They're living life in the fast lane,
And it's taking its toll,
Relationships are short,
And like a lost poker game,
On things it's easy to fold.

Work is now more important than love,
What on earth has our world become?
Social networking is the sole way to communicate,
Is there no way to avoid our inevitable fate?

Trust has no meaning and cheating isn't a crime,
Wasted extensively is our precious time.
Standing lost and alone even in a crowded room,
Our unhappy ending continues to loom.

Creativity and passion is lost in a void,
Of compassion and humility, mankind is devoid.
About the past and goodness we reminisce,
It gives us hopes that history always repeats itself.