//Plateau//

Silly streaks on the planes of a palm becomes 
Sometimes our life's plateau

After a forty eight years of tiresome useless work
To make our barren land fertile
And motherly
A flower came to one of those stems
With an awful declaration of perspective harvest

When it had already drawn many valleys on 
Our family faces,
Many folds manifested on
like the morning bed cover showing 
the registration of a soundless sleep
the ribs in body that had spoken of poverty
Because of our timeless expectations 
We were having upon the land.

Following the flower dry smiles 
blushed the pass port size photographs
attached to their the body 
As the report card at the end of years examinations,
We celebrated the out come of a labour.

Before this we had been to a man
To get the geometry of our future read,
And before that I had already accompanied father 
to a roadside man sitting with
three or four life long imprisoned parrots
who, 
much before father could ask about the fate of his land,
read a paper taking from the parrot’s beak
That one day I would king a dynasty.

We returned that day.

Until a my father transferred the land to my name 
Under the spell of one palmist
To change the fate of land
To change the fate of the family
Until the pain of my family faces were wiped out
From their colorless masks,

A plant in the barren land gave birth a flower.