A piece of me lives in my childhood,
floats in paper boats,
jumps in little puddles,
soars in kites,
waves to planes from terraces,
sticks to dog eared school books.

The child in me is still out there,
digging for insects,
Building sand castles,
Climbing trees,scraping knees,
Nestling in dad’s arms,
feeling love in mom’s kiss.

There I see, a small me,
in rapt attention,
As Tom chases Jerry,
praying for the little mouse,
With a giggle or two,
breaking the solemnity.

There she is, that chubby me,
sun kissed cheeks,
whooshing in the swing,
levitating in the cool breeze,
Soaking in life.

The embers of yesterday,
glow in the darkness of life.
In moments of solitude,
when complexities become,
too heavy a burden to bear,
the little me emerges,
and takes me on a ride,
to the simplicity of the past,
to the dream called childhood.