A Culture's Son

This is the poem I tried to enter during our Book Week. I represented our section and there's a theme. The theme goes clear with the title poem.

 

Once there was a child and he was free

Deep inside, he felt the laughter

The mirth and play of a book’s glee

He was not troubled by thoughts of hereafter

Displays of imagination was all to see

 

The child’s simple trust, his boundless joy

His invincible armor that was reading

It was his shield of bliss; nothing could touch it, no venom, no hiss

 

The child remained in a state of grace

He wasn't confined in time or place

In Technicolor dreams, he frolicked and played

While acting his part, in reading he stayed

 

All he wanted was the mountain high

Color the clouds, paint the sky

Beyond these boundaries, he wanted to fly

In nature's scheme, never to die

Don't stop this child, he's the father of man

Don't cross his way, he's part of the plan

I am that Child, but so are you

You've just forgotten, just lost the clue.

 

Inside your heart sits a voice

Between your eyes, is a mind

An alphabet so simple but wondrously clear

The composition of life, so precious, so dear

 

If you could for one moment know

This spark of creation, this exquisite glow

You would come and read with me

Kindle this fire so we could see

And all the children of the Earth

Weave their magic and give new birth

To a world of reading with no pain

A world of culture, much more sane

Deep inside, you know it's true

Just find that child, it's hiding in you.