Shahid Sarwar

She is an art museum
With everything classic.
Bone china, glazed porcelain,
Well chiseled organic wares:
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The words I have spoken
The words I have written
Do not mark the end of speech
The speech is the tree
...

Angular, lean and tall
She trudges down the road
No lament, no complaint
While carrying life’s load.
...

Something is there in your eyes
That has robbed me of my heart
Now, I resound like an empty vessel
That is emptied even of any definite shape –
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The end of the road
And the beginning of a new journey
Tracks unknown
And lands untold of.
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Alas! The anti-apartheid icon
The illustrious son of South Africa
is no more. No more
Is the Icon of Reconciliation
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I grew certain of her demise
When my hand moved
Down the vacuum of her form.
She didn't hear the cries
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She dissolved
In the sea of silence
When I asked her
How I could reconcile
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We love
Not to possess
But be possessed.
Love is
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