Full Circle

Full Circle 

I am five year old again,

Holding onto dad’s shirt train,

Slinging a bag that would well conceal me,

I am first to buy at the farmer’s meet.

I have come a full circle,

With my share of moods and miracles,

Today I take my kid to farmer’s meets,

To load the bags with fresh feeds.

I remember the aroma of warm bake,

And a box of biscuit as many as one can take,

Now I fill a similar box sitting in a nook,

Reading the recipes from my mother’s book,

Oh! The lovely handiwork decorating each table,

Converting the homes like those found in fables,

How I was convinced I couldn’t be better!

Now my hands move to make dollies prettier.

I helped my father plant seeds,

Grow tomatoes and pull out weeds,

Now I cherish the creepers in my balcony,

Admiring the pumpkin, beans and all other greens in my nursery.

I close my eyes

As I’d like to go back many tides,

To the comfort things,

That’d sooth any of my mood swings.

I open my eyes without any terror,

To a young face that’s my maker’s mirror,

My life has come a full circle,

I take pride in repeating my parents’ every twinkle.