Childhood tales

I love
to sit like i did in childhood
play with the silent mud
talking to dejected bricks

I love
to look at mountains
See them kiss the sky above
with heartfelt tenderness

I love
to watch the swallows  gather
and sing tunes never heard
except in such solidarity

I love
the hops and skips of butterflies
through our misty valley
treating us to a spring touch

I love
to share a kiss with frogs
and soak in earthly worms
without a streak of fear

Locked out

when a cold winter breeze gathers
a legion of pitch dark clouds
like nestling we rush for warmth
yet another lingers in solitude
at the mercy of these ugly streets
and the starless dark night

His eyes stare out
to a far glimpse of light
and though stuck in despair
find warmth in childhood memories
before miseries became reality

Kids rushed like sparrows
build an army around the fire
and fight the cold with brevity
but kids are no more
for a soul is now stuck in solitude
displaced from the rhythm of time