Gyrating to the rhythm of the rain,
Smiling in blithe,
jumping and galloping over
creeks and boulders,
carefree insouciant,
those unruly miscreants

The mud splash on the walls
the faces covered with dirt
clothes carrying signs of slime and muck
fun filled moments, a pleasure to watch
while the nature appeared gloomy and dark
what stood apart
was their unpretentious sparks

How I wished
I could have their souls
finding pleasure in life’s trifling moments
no one to answer but one’s inner voice
no binding,
no chains,
none to impress,
no disdains,
I would fly carefree like a wild lark
smile profusely in light or in dark

And to feel such moments,
which has become
a distant memory from the past
I want to become a child at last
with a heart as golden
as of a little child
I will find my peace and,
maybe my lost charm.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah