The Valley of Zoon


The Valley of Zoon

You tread in stoic calm

amongst the wild Japonica.

Like Wordsworth’s reaper at harvest.

You toil amongst mid spring blossoms

in your valley…your Kashmir.

Along with the lump in your throat,

you have a tale to tell…but won’t.

The bullets you’ve heard…

the lilies dappled with crimson, you’ve seen.

History for others…

blood in rain.

And as your mountain goats bleat,

you usher them on.

Zoon, they call you

-the silent shepherdess …

enigmatic, orphaned, young, widow of pain.

Many bombs have exploded…

Many minds have been driven insane.

And when your namesake,

on the great mountain side…

bathes you in its light at night

your mind eclipses to another time.

Of how green was your valley

and the Tulips that were seen

in yours and Wahid’s dreams.

His boyish charm…his bearded chin.

And when the Nikaah was planned

and the Ruksat was done in a short span of time.

Two eventful days and two happening nights

of passionate love you made.

Under open skies… on hill sides..

with the moon as your secret friend…

and below the valley so green.

Passion besides-

the call of the Mujahadeen.

A kiss on the forehead…

Gun slung on his shoulder…

farewell bid.

Khuda Hafiz…

And if the waters of the Dal are still and stained

They run deep…

Hidden within is a tale of not so long ago

When flowers blossomed and cattle grazed

And before the henna on palms dried…guns blazed.


  1. Powerful message through simple words. Dreams becoming a reality, the beautiful valley, mountains and flowers giving you a high. But then reality hitting you hard on the face leaving you with a heavy heart. Beautiful depiction of the harsh reality of our lives, Arthur Cardozo, in his unique style touches every nerve that brings out finer emotions in the reader.


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here