• Shubhshree mathur

The Harvest

She opened her eyes

and there was wonder all around


They loved her tiny limbs

grew proud of her staggered walk


She didn't know who they were

so she called them a random sound


The sound of a bird. the sound a of goat

the sound a cat and that of a dog

The sound of a lion and that of a horse..

the wind and the raging sea


They were all these sounds for her

like an old cassette in her heart


She opened her hands

and there was knowledge all around


They loved her slurs and syllables

grew proud of her degrees


She didn't know who they were

so she called them a random sound


The sound of boiling tea

and that of a pressure cooker

a door bell, a television

and that of an old scooter


They were all these sounds for her

like an old friend by her side.


She opened her mind

and there were possibilities all around


They said they loved her

and proud of who she was


But had to tell her who they were

they were not a random sound


They were the proud cultivators

now turned helpless farmers,

desperately looking for a buyer

for their decorated harvest


They were all these things

They were the parents of a girl.

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