Old Song Poem by Sarai Girma

She’s either laughing or
Crying. It’s hard to tell, sometimes.
I’d know by the light in her eyes, but
It’s been out a long time now. I wish
I could make her understand that we’ve
Got it all wrong.
‘It’s the children who know, ’
I’d tell her. ‘The children, whose simple
Answers and unbridled wonder and
Delight dance,
and dance.
Whose smiling eyes twinkle,
And dance all the while.’ I’d tell her,
‘Yes, they cry sometimes, but they understand that
Nothing’s as permanent as
We make it out to be.’
Not long ago, she and I
Were children too. I’d remind
Her of how we used to
Laugh
When nothing was funny at all,
And how back then
We used to dance,
And dance.
Maybe I’ll give her something
To remember it by, like a
Photograph,
Or an old song.
She used to love those old songs. Yes,
I’ll give her something.
To remember.
She needs to understand that
They’ve got it all wrong.
I miss the light in
Her Eyes.
They used to Dance, you know.