Here comes the patter of tiny feet,
Innocence looking up at you with wonder,
With bright eyes and shining smiles
All like a million sparks of a bright flame,
pure as drops of dew on a summer morning.
A single stroke filled with a million colours,
these little angels of joy lighting up the world,
slipping, at times falling, yet unafraid.
Fresh as the flowers in a garden,
laughing and dancing to yet unheard melodies
and unabashedly talking to unseen friends,
finding shelter only in a mother’s shadow.
Mischief varying like the melody of a flute,
borne out of souls yet untouched by vice.
A silent hope that they don’t grow up,
and stay scattered across our lonely skies.