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Sunday, 1 June 2014

Ode to a child

A twist of the hands of a toy-clock,
the arrival of a butterfly and a kite,
an unthinking word that tore your world apart:
is this how your hours were marked?
Did you collect any colours today,
any keepsake from a pavement
a dream that flew from a billboard?
When you mixed perfume and dust
did your mind erupt in an impossible fountain
in uncontrolled mirth
or as the most beautiful smile?
Did you birth the dawn with fire
did you feel life ebb away
in the startled ways
of the traditional homelands of warfare?
Did you pause to savour
moment and moment
or was it easier
or perhaps made more sense
to let the receding wave recede
and embrace the approaching one
with open arms made of unimaginable optimism
with open arms carved from a wood
called ‘lack of choice’?
In any event,
that smile,
is it the smile of a heart
that knows generosity and nothing else
even when encountering the tormentor,
the thief that sought to rob innocence
tried to re-paint magic in adult colours?
I don’t know your ways, your world,
and this is why I ask:
“Was your day a child’s day
or the residue left by an adult brew?”
I don’t know your ways, your world,
so I shall stop
and throw a smile
and make this request:
“take it and twist it with yours
unleash that fairy power;
cure me of the curse of adulthood”
.

3 comments :

  1. thank you gentle one.
    your poetry feeds my soul.

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  2. Thanks for this beautiful poem Malinda. It tansported me back 30 years, when I saw my beloved dad devoured by the Tamil tigers...those scars will never leave me...I was 14 years then.That's one reason I feel deeply for all children who have lost their beloved fathers during the dark times of the war. I feel blessed that our Country is now free from this menace.

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  3. perhaps she wonders all the time if you really mean this:

    so I shall stop
    and throw a smile
    and make this request:
    “take it and twist it with yours
    unleash that fairy power;
    cure me of the curse of adulthood”.

    perhaps she doesn't believe in 'lack of choices'. perhaps she's cultivating patience. perhaps she will eternally wait.

    ReplyDelete