Childhood
Do not break the mirror that
reflects the childhood, The unadulterated
nature, the footprint of life.
Keep childhood alive in the fossilized
past,
An island of experience,
To be shielded from new experience,
To remain a reference for living.
In childhood mind and nature
interact in the purest
form,
Life is an unvarnished experience,
Unmeditated, unburdened by the
past.
A child does not lie, but the
civilization is studded with
grand lies,
It is the child in us we belittle,
Who haunts in our endless searchings.
The happy highs of childhood
and its unalloyed pains,
Its transparent wonders and
conflict-less being,
Unpolluted by doubts, unfettered
by ego.
When we grow up, we know more,
But we lose the inner poetry,
Which is sacrificed for the
twinkling illusions of ego and power.
Childhood is a peephole on our
nature,
A slice of pristine formative
experience,
Incomparable, unreasoned,
A mirror we can not afford to
break.
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