When parents become children

When parents become children,
But want to remain hidden,
When adults drop their masks,
And fight the change of tasks;
Then, a space grows inside.

A space to plant a seed,
Or two or three to feed,
What wants to spring up,
From the earth's fertile cup;
To finally show and be seen.

A space tender and strong,
Grow without judgement's gong,
Singing a whole new song,
Not heard since child- so long;
The forest breathes life into them.

Every step a possible stumble,
An angry word, a bit of grumble,
The child seeing all old and new,
Understood by none, or just few;
This world is a strange place.

A blank now where memories were,
This cannot be, grr grrr grrrr,
How does it all change so fast,
I thought my world was built to last;
New shoots grow in old boots.

Looking at them i face me,
Many a times its just chhee,
Remind myself, request for grace,
They too may have passed this place;
Maybe it is time to listen more.

When parents become children,
But want to remain hidden,
When adults drop their masks,
And fight the change of tasks;
Then, a space grows inside.

It is time to listen more.

Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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