As our children grow,
One wishes time would slow.
Yet, like a river, in a rapid flow,
Time takes no holiday to halt or know.
To its wishes we can just bow,
Memories and moments are all we can stow.
As parents, we slowly learn to let go,
Though, this field is not easy to plow.
Since no one can slow or cease time,
And cannot buy or barter with precious dime.
One learns-every day is prime,
The unknowns are too sublime.
Every year, as the candles on the cakes rise,
And milestones mold and surprise,
I flashback from infancy to toddlers to teens and more,
Years have had pleasures and pains, like any story and lore.
Since many events are without a reason or rhyme,
Happiness is not for another season or clime.
Here and now is the only time,
Before the game ends in grime.
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Published by Shalini Kathuria Narang
Shalini Kathuria Narang is a software professional and a freelance journalist. She has reported for national and international newspapers, magazines and news sites. Her poems have been published in several anthologies including Starry Nights: Poetry of Diaspora in Silicon Valley and Pixie Dust and All Things Magical. She is a monthly contributor to Masticadores USA and has been published on Spillwords Press. She is originally from New Delhi.
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Just wow…beautiful.
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