Age

Age is like this little squirrel

Which passes by leaving baby footprints

etched in thoughts, they stay awhile
before getting lost in the sands of time

The little squirrel runs fast
The realization of an year spend, sinks slower than that
Age does not keep books to look over
to turn back and discover how the year really went
Good deeds or bad; go-getter or loser
Time does not stop to take stock
It is another year, and just like the last one
Life must move on.

An year is a sign, that there is less time
to dream dreams that the child had planned to dream
to build castles that always looked down upon him
to read books that he collected in his treasure trove
and there is less time to spend with the world around him
with the little circle he grew up in
Age takes a toll for everyone
More grey hairs, broken teeth, bent backs
every passing year.

On the brighter side, there are new born infants with toothless smiles
with angel like faces and dreamy blue eyes
Age is meaningless for them-they have an eternity to live
In the circle of life, its only a point they have traversed

Age is no preacher
It is just a tact of time
It does not pat the back for an year well spent
It does not chide for a rotten one even

It rings a bell to fulfill dreams coz' time is scarcely there
and there is ever scarcer time to show love for those you care