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Every Christmas, I Grow
written by: Nivedita Roy
Flickering down from fumed above
snow-kissed his red swollen cheeks
entangled lights around his brightest grin
I saw a harelipped boy, in Christmas of Finn.
No carols, no socks
no bells, no gift box;
Yet he danced, on the cry of hounds
For some, Christmas had its own sound
And with him,
I lost all gore, every grim
and with him
I let my child dance, from within.
Dampened though, the clothes on his body
spread warmth as the sun
through his skin, though shoddy.
Lush snow, he dug out
against the birch, he sang aloud
this winter, when the sleigh splinters
I wish Santa, to make him proud
to fill his life as his huge heart
to warm his winters and blossom all seasons
and I wish, for my wishes to be avowed.
Roared from somewhere
was his master, like darkest cloud
who kept the boy and his raped mother
who kept them enslaved under charity's shroud.
Oh! the boy, still young, still fragile
seldom did he argue, seldom did he cry
of wounds by his master
or of God's cruel abstention
seldom did he overhear
of his birth being an unsuccessful abortion.
But then, "seldom" was his convention
of his or of any child
did they seldom care for whatever happens.
The roar; awakened my conscious once more
when huge socks, across black timber door
landed on his spread hands, bumping his nose;
"Over the front gate" his master spat, abhorred.
He saw above, on a cold-sleepy sun and hastened
the sky smiled back as he ran
to the white front, and hung the rich-red socks
uttered his wish, of what he wanted to become as a man.
With his wish, I winked to the sky
to give him all, I prayed thereby
this was the beauty, every year did render
with every Christmas I became,
better human and its defender!
But with every Christmas, I grow
I learn how cruel is this globe
And with every Christmas, I grow
I envision of a magnificent world, we can grow.