Attending a coference in Ireland on 'Child Migration: Identities and problems', I fell to thinking...
In Ireland
How is it that people migrate?Bodily, socially, economically;
From one place to another
From one country to another
Moving up and down
From town to town,
Like birds in their flight
From North Pole to South
From colder climes to warmth.
Leaving behind their life,
Their home and their sight
About what they really want
From this thing called life...
What happens to their souls
Do they migrate too?
What happens to their inner life,
Does it alter too?
What happens to their psyche
How does that modify
With the change in external life?
I often wonder,
The life of those in foreign lands,
Does it stop where they left?
Does it move on with the rest?
Is it frozen in time?
Or does it flow like water,
In a river that crosses fields,
Flows down mountains and greens
Imbibing every thing on the way
Changing its course with the time
Winding through tortuous ways
Adapting to ups and downs-
Flowing, flowing all along...
I wonder how people migrate.
From country to country;
From town to town
From one phase to another
From one life to another
From one world to another,
From this world to the next...
I often wonder...
While I wander around
From one place to another
Seek that peace of mind,
That turbulence of soul,
That satisfaction of the unknown...
These green fields stare at me,
Seem to ask me:
What am I about?
I often wonder...
Author: Zoya Zaidi
Aligarh (UP), India
Copyright ©: Zoya Zaidi
10.04.08 Cork, Ireland
Poetry by Zoya Zaidi
Read 993 times
Written on 2008-04-10 at 20:19
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