Pleased to share a poem from this month's Spark magazine. I had jotted down a few lines a little while after my older son Aarush was born. Now that he has turned five and another new-born in the house is nearing two, I thought it was a good idea to revisit the lines. This goes out to all the parents who have experienced these feelings in some shape or form at this life-changing event. It is written from the perspective of a father, but I daresay the emotions are gender-neutral. Enjoy.
http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=6607
You may be
Of you mother’s womb
But you are of my brow
And my sinews and bones
And that mind that never ceases
To wonder about you
Is life’s irony writ
On your crinkled little face
That a man of thirty years
Searches for himself
In a boy of thirty days?
What August rains
And striking days of summer in May
Await us
While we bide our time?
Growing, inching forward, you and I
What unuttered words, smiles and tears
What careless pronunciations
Of words we hold dear,
What blistering scraps for
Beliefs we differ on,
Lie ahead of us?
How goes our journey together,
From inception to conclusion?
The start: You, light as a feather,
Cradled in my arms
The end: I, lighter than you
Hoisted on your shoulders.
http://www.sparkthemagazine.com/?p=6607
To My New-born Son
You may be
Of you mother’s womb
But you are of my brow
And my sinews and bones
And that mind that never ceases
To wonder about you
Is life’s irony writ
On your crinkled little face
That a man of thirty years
Searches for himself
In a boy of thirty days?
What August rains
And striking days of summer in May
Await us
While we bide our time?
Growing, inching forward, you and I
What unuttered words, smiles and tears
What careless pronunciations
Of words we hold dear,
What blistering scraps for
Beliefs we differ on,
Lie ahead of us?
How goes our journey together,
From inception to conclusion?
The start: You, light as a feather,
Cradled in my arms
The end: I, lighter than you
Hoisted on your shoulders.
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