KIDS AND THE GOLDEN SUN A POEM By MAHESH POUDYAL

In the west,
the kids, with their tender fingers
are trying to hold the golden sun
back from slipping off the Kangchenjunga!
They know—
after the sun sets
and pitch darkness spills all over
their sport can come to a stop
on the banyan-peepal mound!

Father went out, many a time
beyond the mighty Kangchenjunga
to get the slipped-off sun back;
many a time, Mother lighted the Sapura wicks
to shoo away the incoming darkness
but then, Father always returned
with a heart filled with lamentations
and Mother always returned
with a handful of darkness in her palms.

The kids know—
it’s quite a task to stand on the ocean water
and hold back the slipping sun
yet, they are bound to finish their game today itself
on the banyan-peepal mound
for, if the times slips away
it will return only as a cast-off skin.

The sun will rise again tomorrow, granted—
and there shall be light again
but, tomorrow, on the banyan-peepal mound
they won’t be inside the game
or the game won’t be inside them.
The game that is to be played now
should be accomplished today.
After the golden sun sets
and darkness comes darting
time shall return on the banyan-peepal mound
in the guise of a strange hawk
and carry the kids away
to the world of realities!

In the west,
the kids, with their tender fingers
are trying to hold the golden sun
back from slipping off the Kangchenjunga!

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