(106) A baby language.

(106) A baby language




The breeze browses through the open window curtained,
like the school boy’s straight walk into his familiar class,
with strict discipline and paultry freedom allowed.

The parrot on the perambulator swings with artificial tune
In tune with the forcing breeze, a cherubic cover for the babe,
oblivious of the world with beings corrupt and mundane,

It smiles in sleep and also a baby language, thrilled by its own ,
not at all a body language in specific of men and matter,
Perhaps a move forward itself to disown!

The cherubic BABY’S COOS AND CAAS of lip rounding,
a rotation of meaningful similes and systems ,
a time-bound programmed birth’s grounding .

Innocence is cradled ,creation of God is ordained,
to undergo challenges with changes unknown,
Just as the seasons and segments are divined.

The toy parrot on the perambulator swings,
with the babe’s divined smiles,smiles, smiles,
I too partake of its smiles, smiles.

To be a babe, innocent, cradled,cared,fondled,
Is a Gift of God, nourished and cherished,
to grow, to be exposed and matured is cursed.

I wish I had been a babe for ever,
I wish the babe too to be a babe for ever,
A desire, a possibility, which is never, never.

Never desire for ever which is not near,
Never desire for ever which is too far,
Never desire for ever which is too far.