A Cry Of Love
Never could it be to the rise of the morning star,
Neither was it the glittering of the evening light.
The trees withered out their leaves before their season,
The gentle flowing waters angrily locked its door to my face.
The clouds folding their arms; never to give rain!
Cladding out pain with thunders and lighting.
An old, gentle smile of the wind turned astray
Even to the sensed land rolling under my feet like a carpet,
Only could find comfort in the dry lands of my soul.
In all, nature was at war with the emptiness in heart.
It was at loggerheads with the confusion in thoughts.
Until the cry of my beloved! Marked the end of the misery!
It was a new day, when she whispered in the dry withered nights.
The sun gave a glowing smile with the clouds circling it with joy.
The leaves rinsed out their tears from the raindrops.
Gently run the waters down the stream never to dry up.
The wind warmly embraced us never to set us apart.
And the land with opened arms sprang out the best vegetation ever.
Uprising a new dawn of blessing from God filled with ecstasy,
A great love of pain erupted in a cry taking from laughter.
Distance was only the bridge to a unified love of comfort.
Let it be to all who saw my pain and now sharing in the glory from on High;
She dried the tears in heart with her benevolent smile,
And took away the heist of misery in the soul with her loving heart
With our hearts built on the bonds of the Love of God;
Forever will our love endure; even to our generations to come.
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Comments about this poem (A Cry Of Love by Siegfried OheneSidza )
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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