The Sunset
Poetry
The sun has set
and Dad is not home yet!
How I had hate,
when he was late.
And mummy still bet on it;
how insecure I was for Daddy.
Dad has to be home, before sunset;
and he did make it;
never forgets ;
albeit, very busy,
he made it to home before sunset
and worked,
with me sitting on his shoulder blade,
he knew his little daughter was timid and afraid!
And now the sun sets
and although I cry,
Dad never comes back home.
He never makes it a point;
he knew it well,
how I am so scared;
doesn’t he care anymore?
or rather he has,
moved to a new dimension from where,
he cannot come back because the sun never sets there
nor rise,
rather there is sun, I doubt and insist!
had there be one,
he would have surely come
how does he know about time;
he has moved beyond time!
he is lost to time.
The illusion of time has lapsed for him;
he is stuck up, in a vacuum, an empty space;
where time is stagnant,
how can he ever know there, his daughter is scared.
Although I believe each day, he will travel formless
through the waves and
whisper in my ears, ‘Baby I am home’!
but he never obliged.
And here I too am so stuck to time,
still stuck to the sun;
the sunrise, the sunset;
time for me has stopped.
Almost three years,
I have not seen him,
I still cry,
I am still scared
I stare at the setting sun
but Dad never comes back
Perhaps one day Dad will arrive
or I will travel to him
and laugh at the illusion of time,
the sunrise, the sunset!
