Childhood Poem by Vera Sidhwa

When he fell of the swing,
That small girl picked him up.
When she stood on the teeter totter,
She stood so straight.


The falls they took, they got up from.
The small cuts they got on the see saw,
They had their mom, kiss it and made better.


When little girls and boys held hands,
To make a Ring Around the Rosy,
They made ashes two times and all fell down.


They hit each other, then made up in a minute.
They threw sand at each other, then hugged each other.
No complacency, just innocence.
No ego, no raising of ego walls.


Sometimes they said, 'so there…, '
But a tiny second of an ego there.
They pulled each other's hair,
Then yanked away to hold each other's hands.


And so they were the high flying birds,
Of the playground sand.



The birds on the playground,
High flying ones, just as you see at sunset,
All flying together as a group.
For the children could fly.



For the children could soar,
Together in the wide, blue sky.