This is a user generated content for MyStory, a YourStory initiative to enable its community to contribute and have their voices heard. The views and writings here reflect that of the author and not of YourStory.

Prometheus: A son away from his father shares what's in his heart!

This is a poem that I wrote for my father while I was locked away in my apartment in Gurugram! I wrote this on his birthday eve. It was quite ironical that I did not remember at all that it was his birthday the next day!

Prometheus: A son away from his father shares what's in his heart!

Tuesday April 21, 2020,

3 min Read



The sun is yet behind on its trail

The winter winds gusty and wild, from the north they hail

The morning dew seeking refuge on fronds

Jack Frost had busy nightfall.


Divine is the Nature’s beauty they say, but not for all

Young blooms buried beneath the white shroud rest to eternity

And patches of green favored by Boreas

Seek haven from Helios, for another winter night is yet to fall!

A shadow walks through the woods

Age has him and wretched he looks

His knees tremulous his fingers stern

A swift pace and to a white patch, he turns.

He stills on a white holm and drops knees to the ground

Parts snow from a hardwood jamb and digs snow like a hound

A smile dawns through the wrinkles of the old parker

Verdure had survived the chill in his crafted shelter.

Nights in number have yet to pass

The young stem will cast broad

The parker will not rest until it grows

Fruit of the seed he will never pluck, with his own hands which he sow.

I am young and careless and free

I wish to travel beyond the seas

While my curator has stirred through sleep

Worries through days and prays for my weal.

As a craftsman crafts his ship

Shapes its hull and burnish its bowsprit

When sails set free and keel slides

Vessel parts way from its prime.

And as the thunder across the horizon roars

Craftsman prays heaven for his ship to kiss atoll

The mast creeks and freely waves the rudder

But the ship sails on with gratitude to its creator.

While I am away living to learn

To reverse your sacrifices I always yearn

No more a boy they say, you’re a man

I know it’s not true for I have no kin to carry my name.

Strange is the cycle of life indeed

The fruit devours the flower on which it breeds 

A day will come when you will tread in heaven

And I will long for you just as you long for your son.

Yet strange are the customs of men 

While I bow my head to the one who gave me his name 

All find sanctuary in an infinity of gods

Is it too hard to see the divine rests in our own adobes?

Worry not Prometheus

Your kin to come will pay you heed

They will remember you as I pray thee.

While you walk among the stars close to the Chiron

My parker, my craftsman, my father! 

Your legacy will go on.

-Vijeta Sharma