Can that be me?
Serenading in the thick forest
Breathing fragrance of wild flowers
Treading upon sharp thorns
Brushing past swinging fronds
And the high trees don’t
Let me the blue sky see
Can that be me?
Daring the thunder come out
To play with the shells and sands
Rising and falling with high tides
To be pushed onto the shore
Enjoying the skips of pebbles
As I throw them on to the sea
Can that be me?
Chasing butterflies across the fields
Catching them to leave above head
Somersaulting on grasses laden
With dews to ward off the flies
Swinging from a fronds with birds
At the top of a tree
Can that ever be me?
Teasing grandma lying on her lap
Coaxing her to recount tales from epics
Hiding behind her senile frame
To escape grandpas wrath for
Hiding his walking stick
Can I ever shake off those memories
And set myself free?
Can that be me?
Yes, Can that me? Lovely poem coming on its way from childhood memories...this reminded me of my childhood, especially catching butterflies..beautiful presentation.
The haunting memories of childhood, of chasing butterflies and somersaulting on grassy ground, beautifully described!
beautifully portrayed days we have left behind but that still haunt us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Recounting contrasting identities :)