Listen, small boy, to what I have to say,
I can see, by the light in your smile,
And the innocent glee in your eyes,
That you have forgotten
That your striped shorts
Are faded and torn,
Your blue shirt
Dirty and old.
You have forgotten
The dirt under your fingernails,
And that your feet
Are scratched and brown
From always being bare.
I see that you
Have laid down
All of your loads,
Light or heavy as they may be,
To chase after
(your brown feet flashing over the emerald grass)
A straying wisp of happiness,
A white fluff, floating
On the warm breezes
A wish, a dream,
Or perhaps all it gave you
Was a moment of pure pleasure,
For when you captured it,
Held it cupped in your
Brown, careful hands-
A delicate trophy:
One to be treasured,
And then set free;
You smiled at me
As you ran past,
And your smile told me
What your foreign tongue could not.
I saw the purest happiness
In that brief glance,
The joy that only children,
With their hearts open,
Can experience,
May all of your dreams
Be as simple to capture,
And give you as much pleasure,
As a fluff of dandelion seed,
Floating on a sunbeam,
Has given you today.
-Kirsten Savitri Bergh
I wish I was an eagle with a hooked beak of gold
Ebony wings that have seen things, seen tales untold
Wings that have carried me high above care
High above worries that vanish in air
High above treetops blossoming green
High above oceans speckled with frills
High above green and sheep dotted hills
High above meadows with babbling brooks
High above sparrows being pestered by rooks.
But not all of the pictures I've seen have been sweet
I've seen lonely vultures hungering for meat.
A bloody plain with men in pain,
And brothers fighting brothers, toward what aim?
There are men of peace and men of war.
Some of whom care none for the others.
I wish as an eagle
Flying high above,
That every being on this planet
Could someday know love.
Could someday know joy and harmony and peace
I wish as an eagle that our fighting will cease.
By Kirsten Savitri Bergh