HIREATH

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A never ending palace of surmise

A earth for which my heart is longing for

Where I find a faint but sweet tune

A perpetual journey for a beautiful roof

MY HIRAETH.............

Who refills a gust of wind in my heart

Who creates my dreams in fairyland

Who captures all my youthful moments

With whom I can really hear my goosebumps tale

I want to go to that imaginary earth

From which my imperfect soul is made

I want to finish the unending quest and

To touch the bleached clouds with my HIREATH

I had my dream,with my unspoken HIREATH

For a word we will never realize

And still my HIREATH is always unchanged

He is like the first drop of monsoon,

Whispering petals, gushing water and paper boats

So as the first drop of rain touch my soul...

I refill my soul and trigger mind..

But a fear always grab me. ..

Oneday Like the polished sand, it will slip

away..

For me HIREATH is my lost home..

But Is it really lost?

Or

A home which never was?

[Picture courtesy-Google]

THE HOME:

When we say"Home", it is obvious to imagine a place where we have our family and loved ones. Home is a place where a serene love resides and tones of memories are created. A house is made up of bricks but a home is made up of love and memories. A house without love and memories can never be a Home. Some people out there don't have a house to live in and some don't have a family to live with.Those people are the luckiest who have a home stuffed with love, affection and care. You may have earned fame, money and luxury but all this will be worthless you don't have home to take rest when you get tired. The home where someone will wait for you, and open the door before you knock. Someone who will ask you about your day, your wellbeing. For example a bird may fly wherever she can  in the limitless blue sky, but she never forgets her nest. At the end of the day she returns to the place where she can take rest and prepare herself for the next day. Those people who lacks a home find themself a home in imagination. And that imaginary home is called "Hireath".That homesickness for a home which never really exists proves their yelling for a home. 
HIREATH is a Welsh concept which means  homesickness for a home to which one cannot return, a home which may be never was, the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of someone's past. 

Comments

  1. Ankit kumar nayakMay 18, 2020 at 8:48 PM

    Waahaa amazing poem I ever read...👍👍👍

    ReplyDelete
  2. PRATYASA PARIPURNA PATIMay 18, 2020 at 9:33 PM

    Really heart touching poem written with true feelings 👌👌👌👌

    ReplyDelete
  3. Swati parhiMay 18, 2020 at 9:56 PM

    Really the poem is very heart touching ❤️.It shows your unconditional love towards your home😊

    ReplyDelete
  4. Subharaj PandaMay 18, 2020 at 10:30 PM

    No words to this poem
    But so many inconclusive words to the poet✌

    ReplyDelete
  5. LIJA DASMay 18, 2020 at 10:57 PM

    I would rather dream ... amezing poem

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My silentscribblesAugust 26, 2020 at 9:51 PM

      Yeah sometimes it is okay to dream rather suffocating 😌.

      Delete
  6. UnknownMay 19, 2020 at 1:27 AM

    Felt it. 😌

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My silentscribblesAugust 26, 2020 at 9:54 PM

      That's beautiful and thanks for feeling those words😊

      Delete
  7. UnknownMay 19, 2020 at 3:13 AM

    So amazing... beautiful.. creation and comprehension

    ReplyDelete
  8. UnknownMay 19, 2020 at 4:32 AM

    Bht tough english,bujhiba pain dictionary darkar..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My silentscribblesAugust 26, 2020 at 9:52 PM

      Okay then, just bring a dictionary it will surely boost your skill.

      Delete

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