My Child..

Sweetness of the moist morning air

cool, charming, fair

and she runs

with open arms

all round

in the backdrop

of a million charms.

Lusting mist

is all spread

in what to call as a loaf

butter,

on a bread

of last night’s hearth

kept in the warmth, aloof.

As she swims

across the zillions

swirling dew drops’ shine

I see her capture

this mist from the air

lovely child of mine!

She has grown

a bit in years

though for the world

so fast

but, I see her

still as the murmur

of a recent past.

That was a day

I took her in arms

when she was born of me

and it is today

seems she was born

just this Saturday

that I now see

a future bright

hoping always right

that now I want

to make her fly

wanting her to be free.

-Himadri(07/08/07)