The universal joy
Of a gentle wind
A small kite
And a length of string
In a child’s hand
Both the child’s
And my own
The universal joy
Of a gentle wind
A small kite
And a length of string
In a child’s hand
Both the child’s
And my own
Mother Ganga
Cleanse my body
Of my daily toil
Mother Ganga
Cleanse my spirit
Of my transgressions
Mother Ganga
Accept my ashes
Carry me to nirvana
Oh
To be that boy
Again
A little play
In every step
And every thought
She ran through the frame
Dressed in all the right bright colours
A child’s exuberance
Equal to the vibrance
Of the setting
Click click click
Went the shutter
All good
But one click
Is perfect
Ephemeral moment
Eternally captured
Runway clears
Now aloft
Miles high
Above the smog
Crisp blue sky
First in weeks
Smogless air
First I’ve breathed
By a simple accident of birth
Each with their own tenor
Their own flavour
Their own meaning
There is the overall
The changing times
The recollected meaning
Of a moment
Made up of moments
All part of another
Moment
As a mother purifies herself
In the waters of the holy Ganga
While her daughters prepare
To leap in, yet again