The touch

Mom,

I have forgotten the fairytales of the

land I have been fabricated from

and all I remember now is the

horrors of the world I live in

but still when I look at the stars

and the light of my home travels

millions of years just to reach my

eyes and fill it with hope,

I try to touch the clouds with

the fresh touch of our home

through my eyes, so the next time when it rains,

dust of magic and fidelity

falls from the sky to bring the

lost blue sagas of the earth which

I used to listen about while you tucked

me safely in bed,

Back to life from the core of it.

In this poem, the narrator talks about the earth as a planet that she used to hear stories about. Even for the world out there, the earth was a mesmerizing land of magic and beauty but that has changed. Earth is not the same anymore and she is here to bring that lost magic back to life. So, that once again she can reroute back to her home and her mother can tuck her to sleep while listening to the beautiful sagas about planet earth.

- Rebekka Kaur

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