Sunday, July 16, 2006

My Future Children

(25th March 2003)

I am thinking
Of the children of the future
Who will come
From my womb,
My future children.

Will these kids
See old decaying brick walls
Overlaid with dark sea-green,
Will they smell
Moss, lichen and fungi
Will they stain
Little fingers – the green dirt going
Deep into the nail?

I am thinking will there be
Craggy natural edges
In their life
To tear a frock on!

I wonder if
The imagination of my children
Will be haunted by day-dreams-
A result of staring
Too long at the sky...
Will they have, like me
A fascination for holes,
Investigating mysteries
With toothpicks?

Shall they inspectors
Of armies of black and red ants
Who march to their homes
In the early summer!
Shall they give them grain, as magnanimous kings
Or like scholars, study and observe
Hour after hour.

I wonder for the future
Of my little children.
I am the Earth Mother,
In me
There is much Irregularity:
Weird shapes and dreams,
Forests, hills, mountains,
Crags, pits and holes-
To imperfection.

I’d like my little children
To know of grasses
And the tiny lichen.
I don’t much care for their
Being word-perfect though.

Spare us computers
Or the latest video games-
I’d rather see
Green knees and patchy short
At Mama’s door.
Sadia Arman
Mary Nagy 16 July 2006
I agree wholeheartedly with your sentiment here Sadia! I love very much seeing my children playing outside rather than sitting indoors. There is so much to see outside and something new to discover everyday! I enjoyed this poem very much! Sincerely, Mary
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