That Corridor

Along that corridor
Familiar to my heart
I take a stroll, a gentle stroll
Leaving my memory travel far ahead of me.
Along that corridor
I could feel my shadow speaking
Telling how sad it is to walk here
The path where many children with cerebral palsy
Always move with wheelchairs and rollators.

I feel it deeply, hurting my conscience
Far from this reality I always try to run
Alas!! My responsibility leaves me not
As look at them at every step I placed ahead.

Why, my Lord, why must they
Be like what they are?
Why, my Lord, why can’t there
Be without the wheelchairs and rollators?
My tears slowly rolled
And fall on the floor of the corridor;
And I am surprised to see, the teardrops
Cried more and more, flowing along the corridor.

Try as much as I could
An answer for this is beyond the mind
And I decided, my best I should give them
To equip these wonderful souls
At least, with whatever good that I can part with.

Every evening, I’ve made it a point
To stroll along this corridor in the darkness
For as I touch the darkness enveloping this corridor
I could feel an ancient voice, saying to me
“my son, do them good as long as you are here”
“each needs a company to guide them through”
“and they are here, to teach you, the art of living”
“to appreciate and show gratitude for things you have now”
“for which they are praying, but not able to achieve”

As I walk along that corridor
My heartbeats challenged my thoughts
In restless motions, my hope is suffused with anticipation
That the next day, let it come, I shall serve them good.


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