Oftentimes

by Amit Parmessur

Oftentimes I wish to read the message
hidden in the Turkish clouds.
Oftentimes I wish to feel the liveliness
hidden in the Guatemalan rain.

Oftentimes I wish to capture the songs
hidden in the Wellington wind.
Oftentimes I wish to taste the tranquility
hidden in the Pondicherry stars.

Oftentimes...

Oftentimes I wish to imitate the madness
hidden in my wallpaper’s waterfall.
Oftentimes I wish to collect the fire
hidden in my neighbor’s sunflower.

Oftentimes I wish to learn the language
hidden in Asia’s rich utensils.
Oftentimes I wish to tell Mother

You are my playful rain,
my peaceful star,
my perpetual sunflower.

Oftentimes I wish to tell Mother that
She is my clouds, my wind, my sole God.

Oftentimes...
Oftentimes...

Oftentimes...