Don'T Call Me Home Poem by Shouvik Roy

I am sorry Maa, I can't be home,
Not for now, not until I have
Drunk the waters of the sea
That bathes the sun bright,
Until I have known,
Why the lady blue glues
The sun to her chest
For a while,
Before he gilds her,
And sinks deep a mile.
Until I have winged and perched
On the boughs of the clouds,
Until I have known why
The sea ebbs, and
The sand feels proud.
Wandering, roving I will find a way
To the great mount,
There by the thawed ice, beneath the covert creamy gleam
I would rinse myself,
Walk nude on the rude rocks
where the river roars aloud.

Maa, don't call me home.