It was just another dawn;
It was just another wind.
The streets were empty
And the town was silent in her voice.
And in that thinning mist
I was on a morning walk.
Not many vendors had begun their day,
Not many birds were on the sidewalks.
The avenue lent a charming shade;
The breeze was kissing my chest.
The florists, the steaming samovars,
The waking scenes brought me an O Henry tale.
Life to me seemed a running brook,
That hour to me lent a charming lass.
Before me lay a whispering city,
Behind me was a bird opening her wings.
In those waking moments,
A wheelbarrow approached me in slow paces.
A woman was at the helm;
It was her morning rounds.
City’s corners listened to her footsteps,
A basket and a broomstick told her morning tale.
And among these cleansing tools
Sat a child breathing the winds of life.
She knew no perils;
She was in the cradle of life.
The schedules of life troubled her not,
She was innocence personified.
Setting a deepening tone,
It was a lingering moment.
The barrow served her a cradle,
The clattering wheels, a lullaby.
Moments later
The age old scene disappeared from my sight.
From the pavement of waking life I blest-
'May the bud spread the sweetness of dales,
May the kid wither not in the winds'.
Ravi Panamanna
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cradle-of-life/
