From The Eyes Of A Child

From the Eyes of a Child...

Born was I to parents, a timeless debt to the Lord and angels,

For such were they, no words can say,

From faltering steps to drunken walk,

Mom held me but let me go also, to know no fear,

While my father, with cigar in his hand looked on,

A wall of permanence, silence and the invaluable comfort zone.

Eyes of a child, uncluttered and lucid clear,

Held each blessing like a magical pearl,

The dew drops on a morning petal,

Each moment sublime and filled with extreme glee.

Till dark clouds filled the horizon,

Father passing away on a cold winter day,

I scarce could fathom anything save none to warm my hands,

Or rub them, as he used to do,

Lying silent and cold,

Wondered why the cries and lamentations,

Maybe he was just sleeping.

The eyes of a child knows only innocence,

And tears fell seeing my mother, in such a state,

Not seen before, a sudden epiphany that I may not ever see him again,

Who says time heals, it only worsens the wound,

For the moments become more distant,

And I question myself now,

Did they happen or was it just a bad dream,

The eyes of a child, now gradually got used,

To seeing happiness come but sadness also lurking for its turn,

Born was I to parents I would have for million lives,

Just this wish, on my birthday, when now the child has

Steaks of grey hair,

Just this wish, or what else defined my life!