My Feet Are Walking On

(Funny how time moves only in one direction: forward. Even if we sometimes wish we could get a second chance.)

So happy I am, so full of joy,
I run with speed untold;
I crash through trees, breaking their leaves,
Naughty I am and bold.
I want to race the wild wind,
Blow fast and faster gone,
But quietly and steadily,
My feet keep walking on.

I see a bird in distance fly,
Happy at freedom free;
Unlike the freedom we enjoy,
With wings clipped so cruelly.
My soul flies with the bird so high,
Wishing to join it there,
But as I try with it to fly,
My feet don’t move a hair.

But there, look there! A deer does leap,
By babbling brooks so fine;
Let us stop now and take a peek,
Enjoy our pretty time.
Stop! Stop! Let’s spend a moment,
With the frisky, little fawn,
But carelessly and so rudely,
My feet keep tramping on.

I see the blue, blue sky above,
Clouds crown it one by one;
I dance again to silent rain,
Drenched in the smiling sun.
But what is that? That careless child!
Now tumbling off the rail!
I try to go and catch him so,
My feet, as usual, fail.

I walk now down the worn, worn path,
Of tired, broken land;
Sometimes I leave prints that grieve,
On silent gracious sand.
Now I stumble, almost fall,
Tired, I start to yawn;
But in mourning yet, they don’t forget,
My feet are walking on.

(c) Isvari Mohan, 2011

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