The Amaltas

Walking on a boulevard lined up with delicate pendulous amaltas,

My eyes gleamed with frivolity; the child in me transferred to a dreamland.

Stuck there for hours, a grin peeping out

In wonder I gazed at the swinging gold drops pouring out

And what are these called? I never tried to ask

Their magical impact was forever going to last

Swaying rhythmically, radiating gold; it's beauty is beyond words

I now realize as they told

Summers were their days with bright blue sky, lovely green and the vibrant gold

Freshest was the feel that I'd ever soaked

Seasons switched and they were gone

To teach me the hard way that somethings are worth waiting long.

Very long it has been, that trip to dreamland, that kiddo grin, that freshest feel

Faded in time this childhood euphoria slowly sinks in.

Like a bubble of joy it burst at once

When today I revisit my childhood innocence.