Boyhood..

Born was I to the sound of strings,

Of angelic wings and mothers dream,

Fresh as a dew, all small things seemed ecstatic,

And all tears are not bad, my mom used to console,

With warmth and security not found in 

Things of permanence.

I grew up, between the magic of dawn and dusk,

Lying and staring at night sky with awe,

All things resonated with such beauty,

The world I saw , hardly had the answers,

To the growing questioning mind.

Hitherto untouched by pain or misery,

Intoxicated by the lust of life I grew,

Till I felt the first sharp pang of agony,

Of losing, my father, at an impressi

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onable age,

The anger of " why me", took root,

Not even mom could sooth me.

Lessons of life, had started,

My boyhood gradually realising the value of impermanence,

My attachment grew towards Nature,

And the wisdom and magic it held,

In small nuggets meant to be deciphered,

The winds, the seas, the waves,

The changing seasons,

The falling leaves, then the promise of a seed,

Made me walk the path,

Where moments where cherished,

No milestone lined the way,

Only the deep faith,

That I too had been here,

And shall be born again,

Somewhere over the rainbow,

And the last blue mountain.