THE RIGHT WORD by Imtiaz Dharker Poem
Outside the door,
lurking in the shadows,
is a terrorist.Is that the wrong description?
Outside that door,
taking shelter in the shadows,
is a freedom fighter.I haven’t got this right.
Outside, waiting in the shadows,
is a hostile militant.Are words no more
than waving, wavering flats?
Outside your door,
watchful in the shadows,
is a guerrilla warrior.God help me.
Outside, defying every shadow,
stands a martyr.
I saw his face.No words can help me now.
Just outside the door,
lost in shadows,
is a child who looks like mine.One word for you.
Outside my door,
his hand too steady,
his eyes too hard
is a boy who looks like your son, too.I open the door.
Come in, I say.
Come in and eat with us.The child steps in
and carefully, at my door,
takes off his shoes.— Imtiaz Dharker
