The Stopover - In Search of Me

Courtesy : The Stopover

Under the clear blue sky I see
Soft white clouds,
Brown dusty mountains
Spreading their arms;

I wait,
I stand still,
Neither could I walk front
Nor I could turn back;

I am a Tibetan
But I am not from Tibet,
I was born in India
Yet I am not an Indian;

A stamped refugee
From a lost country;
With my home just a yard away
And yet I feel it's far away;

I have got no choice,
But to stay back with despair;
I know for sure now,
This is beyond repair;

Every night I dream
My never seen home,
Lost in tears,
Engulfed with fear;

I survive, I wander
My heart grows tender
To get a sneak peek
Of my unseen land;

There is so much to see, to meet
And much more to feel;
I wish I could
Smell my earth

Till my field,
Rear my yaks,
Build my home,
As I try to fit in this foreign land;

I know I am not any nearer
In grabbing my nation back;
I have my courage,
I have my strength.

They say
My country,
Roof of the world -
Has now left us under no roof;

I wish I go home
To weave my dreams,
For it is my only realm;
While I still wait...

For the stopover -
To soothe my soul,
To mend my mind,
To see where I belong;

And to find who I am...

This post is part of the contest Tibet: Roof of the world. Its people : Roofless.. on WriteUpCafe.com inspired by the Photo Fiction book The Stopover