In The Summer Fields

By Natasha Marathakode Shafi

When the war ends,

Will you walk across the field to embrace me

Within your cold arms.

Hands roughened by guns and your eyes troubled.

I want to be the comfort that you seek

When the blades no longer clatter in your dreams.

In the ruined palace that we reside would you hope to close your eyes

And not see those lifeless of a poor man?

Would you ever wake up with a well rested mind?

When the war ends,

And the sky brightens,

Would you fool around with the kids and the krakens?

Swing along the gentle wind,

And climb a wizened tree?

Tell me stories that never were.

For it scares me to think

The voice once loved will be a distant memory.

When the war ends,

Will I know?

All those paper of words and lies,

Have kept me sound asleep.

What must I do when I wake into this nightmare?

Spoils of war has begun to wear me.

The absolute fear of knowing nothing,

Has led me down a labyrinth,

Where I do not trust nor be trusted.

When the war ends,

How would you feel?

Would you feel elated or nothing at all?

Would you look at the heavens with gratitude?

But it pains to think you wouldn’t.

Because nothing can erase,

What you have seen with those bright eyes.

Do they even shine the same?

When the war ends,

Would I see you?

Would I remember the softness of your cheeks,

And the tramples of your feet?

They say it is not the man who returns,

Just a soldier who hasn't seen the light of day for the longest time.

I pray for this torture to cease.

When the war ends,

The cruelest thing of all

Is to be left alone waiting in the summer fields.

By Natasha Marathakode Shafi