THEY ARE THE SMALL      CHILDREN   Look at them they are of like fresh drops of dew nestled in palms and leaves. They are gifts of the heavens. They stretch, turn, slip and slide like delicate pearls glinting with laughter. They are like little stars on earth. Like sunshine of winters day bathes the court yard in gold they banish darkness in our hearts and warm us to the core. They are the stars on the earth. 

Like sleep trapped in eye lids, where sweat dreams abound and in the dream an angel rises. They are like fountains of color. They are like butterflies on blossoms, like love which is selfless. They are surging ways of hope; they are the dawn of dreams and eternal joy. On the heavy nights of dark bosom they sit like a flame dispelling gloom. Like an orchards fragrance they fill the air. They are like kaleidoscope of myriad hues.

They are like flowers reaching up the sun. They are like the notes of flute in the quite of a grove. They are breaths of fresh air. They are the rhythm and music of life. Like the pulsing life of the neighborhood they are like buds, determined to bloom. They are like the breeze of the season caught in your palm. They are the blessings of our elders.

Sometimes as wise as old men at others, they are like care free stream or a volley of innocent questions. Like laughter breaks silence, and smile lights up a face. They are like celestial light that shines on the fortunate. They are like the moon dancing on the lake. They are like a familiar shoulder in the midst of a crowd. They are gurgling stream, frothing and giggling. They are like a sweet little nap at midday. They are like the comfort of loving touch. They are like joyous music ringing in your ears. They are like a fine spray of rain. Can you guess who are they? As others said they are not the pillars they are the planners. They are the children!!!!!!

                                                                        -K. Bharadwaj