GREEN AND YOUNG

 

Srinivasa Rangaswami

 

Young I am

as I was

When I was young.

 

The children in the neighbourhood

call me grandpa; I don’t mind,

but wonder why, when actually

I am their pal.

 

The first patter of sun-drenched rain

still sends me all atwitter,

as the head earth I drink

to the brim of my being.

That dreamy-eyed boy by the puddle

I can join, to launch on voyage

paper galleons.

to virgin shores forlorn

beyond boiling pirate-infested seas.

 

The maiden next door

eyes me as one beyond her hedge,

while, in truth, I am her mate.

Not cloyed with life’s rich repast

but avid still. I behold the world

with a youthful eye and a vernal heart.

 

The palsied cronies on the park bench

accost me as one of their ken,

unknowing, I do not belong with them,

perhaps never will!

 

The children in the neighbourhood,

the maiden next door,

the cronies on the park bench,

they do not know:

Beneath the autumnal bark

lives a tree green and young.

 

 

Back