Imagine

Imagine a story
that hesitates on the tip of the tongue
reluctant to be told.
You can see it sometimes,
when the light is just right
in an oft repeated joke
and an awkward laugh.
Suddenly then the sun moves,
ever so slightly,
and it slips into the shadow
of something concrete and defined.
And you wonder, if it was real,
even if for a moment, or a trick
that the light played with your mind.

There must be a parallel universe somewhere,
where imagined stories play out.
In that universe, you and I have a trajectory.
It begins that precise moment when the light was just right
Like a dazzling star that is burning fast,
it blazes through the ifs and buts of life
and perishes at the very moment the sun moved ever so slightly.

In another universe.
another time.
Imagine.
Imagine that.

The Fair

If only you could see her at the fair.
Running around in glee,
Ride to ride,
Slide to slide
taking in every sight
that there ever was to see.

If only you could hear her at the fair.
Shouting for joy as she explored,
screeches of ecstasy,
giggles of fantasy
exclaims of disbelief
like we had walked through a magic door.

I was there with her at the fair,
and it was then that I finally learnt,
to scream and let go
imagine things that i don't know
that facts can be countered with "So ?"
and how to grow up and become an elephant.


To Ponyo, who is always showing me how life ought to be lived - with reckless abandon and nothing else.
  

Climbing a tree

To sit on a tree,

unfettered, 

in the cozy shade of the leaves.

To ponder on life at 7 and 3,

wishing,

all the things one could be.

Perspective is all the things that they see,

unhindered,

from the top of a tree.

This is what it must be

to not have a care

to be free.

Only if you climb a tree.

To my children, who love climbing trees. To the tree in our cul de sac which hosts my children almost daily, where they hold "secret" meetings with their friends. 

To my own childhood and days spent lounging on various trees.