The child in me takes a chimerical flight
To the days of yore, when the sun shone bright,
When mirthful laughter echoed in the hillside,
When stockings and hearts waited in hope in Yuletide,
And nimble feet chased the fireflies at night!
The Lord’s hand felt in every sound and sight,
Picnics, fetes, Halloween masks…oh, what a delight!
Bleary-eyed, I now watch the ebb of time and tide,
Does the child in me rue its adult plight?
Primeval fetters of caste, race, faith and might
Sunder comrades apart for reasons trite;
Cherubic hearts no more, but pools of hate and pride
Where truth and innocence no longer reside;
Where vengeful strifes outplace a puerile fight,
Adulthood, the child in me screams, is quite a blight!!
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One thought on “Echoes of Innocence”
I read it twice; it was nostalgia dripping. The child in me…a heart tugging poem. A wishful remberance of things past ala Proust.