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3 min write
I stare piteously at my grandkid-
kid jumping with aggressive joy
at each completed level of
a mindless game displayed
on the computer screen,
played by hitting a key
repeatedly, with hands trembling
will-less I crane my neck
to look upwards through rows of
buildings, all I see is
A handful of stars in a hazy,
un-naturally
lit-up bright night sky
less cared by many bumbling lives
Each innocent night, every
night as a child, I used to
sit by my father who
made up stories divine on
group of stars
a line, a mat, a dog so like
animated with my awesome nods
I used to hear his voice
till I drooped like a feather
sound asleep, sleep
so pure, so restful
even angels smiled
and twirled then
in my dreams with colorful streams
That serene childhood
filled with fun, with love
rich with truth, with honesty
that angel sleep,that angel dream
can never be passed on
can never be re-lived
through our children, ever again
Copyright ©
thriveni c mysore
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