Echoes
Tika Rai Anshu
Kansas
In lands where new roots seeking to grow,
We create dreams from the ground we sow.
Yet, beneath the cities’ brightest embrace,
Lie the whispers of a distant place to grace
Oh, Bhutan, how your high mountains call,
Surely through corridors of memory’s hall.
Alas! In every gust of East wind, I do hear,
The laughter of past moments held so dear.
Hearts, though strong are bruised and worn,
By tales of losses and being thoroughly torn.
From roots deep in the earth, bond we knew,
To vast skies that once were brilliantly blue.
Here, we eventually stand in newfound land,
With our desires & dreams, a future planned.
Every day faces do pass by, their gazes kind,
That’s how in a new world we strive to bind.
Yet, children of this land now actually grow,
In funky ways we sometimes scarcely know.
They learn new tongues, embrace new ways,
In a blend of numerous cultures, lost in daze.
Their hearts are truly divided, minds at war,
Conflict between the old and new they spar.
In jeans and tees, they walk the wide streets,
Where once were robes and rhythmic beats.
They speak of the dreams, of futures bright,
In voices that we find both right and slight.
For in their eyes, we indeed spot the blend,
Of past and present, anxieties do transcend.
The elders stare at with their regretful eyes,
As enchanting ancient songs in silence die.
There’s fear of losing everything we knew,
Of valuable heritage that once echoed true.
Yet, undying hope resides in what can be,
A harmony, the integrated truth of history.
O, teach them the songs, the tales, the lore,
The traditional dances of the days of yore.
In homes, let holy places still stand proud,
So, with incense smoke, a redolent cloud.
Let the various festivals be times to share,
The food, the clothing, the fervent prayer.
Politely speak to them in mother tongues,
Let motivative stories of the past be sung.
Guide them gently, highlight, let them see,
The strength and resilience in their duality.
For in this new land, their roots now grow,
But in their hearts, let the clear rivers flow.
Of cultures rich & famous, a blend so fine,
Where old and new together readily shine.
Certainly, let not the fear of loss take hold,
But forge a path, both courageous and bold.
In unity, harmoniously, preserve and blend,
A cultural legacy that will indeed transcend.
Brightly in memories, our home does gleam,
A land of beauty, pride, peace, like a dream.
So, though we walk these welcoming streets,
In every heartbeat, surely motherland beats.